Shadow and Remnant
by Justice Snake
Summary: Revised Version: Thirteen years after Twilight Princess. Link quests for a way back into Twilight. Ilia searches Link's past to understand him. Unbeknownst to her, a secret and ancient prophecy awaits fulfillment - to counter a new and terrible evil.
1. Prologue

**Shadow and Remnant -**

By: Justin C.

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Author's Note: This is a revised edition of my first Zelda fiction, so please review _critically_. I present to you, a modest story based upon a dream that I had this summer. I used this dream to propel this little continuation of The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess. I do not own or distribute the intellectual property of Nintendo, nor will I ever.

I have actually resubmitted this Prologue with an updated format. I hope it helps.

I herby dedicate this fiction to the lovely lot at the MMF. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it.

Now, without further ado:

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**Prologue**

In the Land of Hyrule, there is war.

Twilit shadow cascades across the northern lands upon steeds of darkness.

Once thought only to be mere shadows against the Light, the mounted figures lower their lances in the evening's mist. Ornate armour shields their milk white bodies, shrouded underneath dark cloaks. Vivid cyan glyphs trace the contours of both flesh and iron. Their eyes, beneath uniform, helms burn brightly against the night's canopy.

The Innocent watched in bleak terror as the thunderous sides of war drew ever nigh upon one another.

They are the night: Black hooves dash against cold Hyrulean earth, carrying the weight of both steed and shelled rider. Lance and spear and axe and blade are gripped tightly under enchanted gauntlets.

Indeed, they are the night.

Twilit Knights of the Realm, pure and free, ride against the black foe now unfamiliar. Nearly half a mile away, the offensive brood charged. Dark-swirled muscle beneath cursed black flesh, their fingers long and powerful. Tendrils, from behind cold stone masks lash about like the whips of slavers.

Only, these creatures that carried the crimson symbols of the dead Usurper King were not the drivers, but the ones in bondage.

Cursed, feral, and snarling. The Twilit Knights knew well of their foes, and for each beast that was slain, the deeper the wounds of heartbreak snaked. Their growls and screams lay etched in the minds of the brave few Knights who dared challenge the Darkness.

There were fewer of them now than before, the Knights came to realize. To heed the call of their forsaken Queen, they rode to these pure lands. Still, the screams of the many, so blinded by Darkness drew near.

A young man of Twilight, clad in the most ornate of armours, baring a helm that was graced with the black plume of a great flying beast and boasting both vivid red eyes and broad trim beard, rode before his company. A blackened cape lapped in the passing winds from his broad plated shoulders. The mark of the Twili race emblazoned a pure white squarely at its center.

The Captain of the Twilit company bore no shield, nor spear, but a single short blade crafted from the depths of his people's will alone. Out of the thin evening air, the blade's curvature came into focus and solidified. The Captain's grip was strong as he pointed his short sword's razor tip toward the approaching legions of his former brothers.

Brothers they were no more. Cries of anger, terror, bloodlust, and hatred emerged from opposing ranks of Twili and Beast alike.

Finally, they became one: a cacophony of steel, claw and shadow.

So many masked beasts rose against the mounted surge. Blades fell and the creatures dissolved, but many more took their respective places. The Twili and their mounts cut a simple swath through the disjointed lines of howling Messengers. For the entire day of every day in the long week, the charges began as such. The Captain broke the mask of his seventh Beast in the charge when his anticipation of his earlier prediction came to being:

The mighty shaft of a long spear flew from the hoard of cursed ones. The blackened steel tip passed through the officer's decorative plume and found concussive residence within the plated chest of the Knight at his immediate flank. The unfortunate soldier gasped for his last breath and passed away before his body met the littered ground.

There is was, a creature standing eleven feet tall, rippled with muscle and agony. It stomped closer toward the center of the Twilit charge. More importantly, stomping toward him, the Captain. The cursed Chieftain itself was controlled by the same Darkness that was awash within the former comrades that were being cut down all around him.

The cycle had repeated once more.

To each skirmish, there was a Dark Lord that controls the fate of all within its ranks. Removing any leader of any side would result in a breakdown of morale and eventually the battle itself. Inevitably, both the Captain and his opposing Lord Chieftain drew the same conclusion. The Captain reared his steed and shouted in a language unknown to the Innocents watching from afar.

At once, the entire Twilit company rallied to their officer and made war against the single Chieftain. Ignoring all other foes, the Twilit Knights lashed and speared at the opposing Lord, despite the drastic efforts of the feral beasts about them. The Lords varied in size and in strength, however, their fates wrought the same results: victory.

Such was the victory at the northern edge of Hyrule's ravaged lands. The cursed Lord reared its ugly dark head in a last violent throe of life. Each spear wound and each embedded axe head shortened those unrestrained synapses.

Finally, the beast collapsed and was silent.

The battle plains were silent with the dead. The Messenger foe, once large and threatening, gave a final harmonic scream before they themselves fell. Their reigns were broken, each beast dissolved along with their field master. There were no shout of rapturous victory, nor were there smiles that dared impress. The Captain took a sweeping glance at the remnants of his company. _Rest well, brothers. You have earned your keep in the halls of our ancestors._

The mist cleared as the winds blew strong once more. The cold air nibbled at the Captain's face as he removed his helm. With a strong gauntleted hand, he wiped clear the sweat within the chin's thickness of stubble and whisker.

* * *

The mist cleared to reveal emerging stone. Soon, there were more and more that rose. Large slabs of stone, carved and arranged in such a peculiar fashion that none understood their purpose.

_Amazing. Astounding._ These were the queries that passed among the tattered few who remained on the field.

At last, the stone slabs were ceased from the ground which they emerged. From disturbed Hyrulean earth those structures rose to form a pattern seen only from the sky. A wide clearing resided within the perimeter that the stones created. The Captain and his flabbergasted few approached silently and slowly their prize, if a prize indeed it was. None risked a touch, but all risked their stares. Such a mysterious formation, yet no purpose arose as to the existence of such a structure.

The Captain, his entire company eagerly awaiting his words, said nothing but bravely placed an open palm upon the naked surface of the nearest stone. From the point where his hand made contact, sharp blue lines emerged. Twisting and turning, forming curious, brightly lit mazes and patterns, the lines halted not until the last snakes of blue light returned to the point of origin.

A resonation was felt from the glyphs that formed. For as magical as the event itself, there was no other that followed. The stone perimeter simply sat and pulsated with its newfound light. Of the many strange and unfortunate events to pass through our lost lands, these stones who refuse to yield their purpose are among the cruelest.

There was a noise. A rustling noise that caught the ears of those Twili that no longer possessed any. All in the mounted Twili unit turned and lowered their arms in preparation.

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Ilia had to keep Telma silent, but ever since the change, she had developed a restless nature that coincided with her usual stout assertiveness. In the short time that the young maid from Ordona had known the Hylian tavern owner, she had never witnessed such impulsiveness. This curse, this vaunted magic was foul business, though Telma's shape was foreign, her inner self remained. Or what could be seen as her inner self.

Throughout the entire battle, both women watched in immobile silence. Even when the last Beast fell, Telma was calm. Then, those mysterious stones rose from the ground and Ilia's cursed comrade became restless. The bearded victor, that Ilia regarded as the company commander, took the initiative to approach the mystery.

Telma's cursed eyes bulged further from their pink sockets as the bearded one placed his hand upon the nearest stone. "Ignorant Interlopers!" hissed Telma as she attempted to claw her way out of the shrubs they used as cover. It took nearly all of her strength to withhold the poor creature, lest the victorious riders mistook her for another foe.

The pain of guilt should any harm befall Telma would be too great for such a kind heart to bear. Alas, her grip failed her and Telma was loose to stumble forward into the clear. Ilia gasped in terror as the deformed bar lady made her way across the open toward the glowing stones.

* * *

The Captain could not believe his own scarlet eyes. The figure that stumbled from the bushes took his entire company aback. It was large, pink and angry looking. Yet, for all of its demeanor, the short dwarfish creature bared no threatening representations. Large brown eyes, those that appeared several sizes too wide for the pink sockets glared only at him. Its pointed ears were decorated with fine golden loops that hung freely in the breeze. Round pink hips suggested a feminine build, large lips and a slight waddle confirmed the suggestion.

It spoke, saying, "Have you no idea what this place means. O Captain of the Twilight?"

Another voice shouted after her, "Telma, wait!" Captain sought the voice's origin. A human female?

This one who caught up with the pink dwarf was a fragile one indeed. Short golden hair was tied back to make way for the brilliant green eyes that accommodated the petit thin visage.

"What do you think you're doing, provoking them like that? You could be killed!" A strong head held such motherly words. Humans and their emotions. The Captain simply stared in confusion.

"O Captain of Twilight," began the pink one. "I offer to you, information most valuable to your cause, should thou choose to heed my call."

To humans, it was gibberish. To the Twili, it was their native tongue. How could this one speak so fluently, though she clearly does not belong to us? The human female at her side did not appear to understand. Instead, she chose to plead with the Captain, "Please, sir. My friend is not well. She has been transformed and I do not know how to help her. Her name is Telma."

_Hylian, a simple language_. Captain decided to acquiesce, "She has been cursed." The human fell silent, "It is likely that this form is born from the evil that my company seeks to destroy."

"Can you help her?" asked the female pleadingly.

Those eyes somehow tore a hole in the Captain's own emotional defences. A heart hardened by combat somehow shattered at the will of a civilian, or by the looks of her simple dress, peasant woman.

Before he could answer, the Captain was derailed by the pink one, "We have no time for idle chatter, come o Captain, there is much to be said."

* * *

The Captain appeared to have considered it as he dismounted his dark steed. Those creatures upon which the victors rode were unlike any that Ilia had seen before. They were dark, featureless. There was no beauty that Ilia could see like she saw in a horse. She thought of Epona, the mare from Ordona. Thoughts of the beautiful horse eventually melted into thoughts of Link, Epona's rider.

Thoughts of Link transpired into the thoughts of her mission. By the time Ilia shook those thoughts away for the sake of the moment, she realized that Telma had disappeared into the lines of Dark victors. The Captain, as it seemed had taken the Castle Towner in a private audience, to treat in a language that Telma had never spoken before. That is, one that she had never chosen to speak before.

Strange tidings and stranger results. She had much to learn of these victors and the significance of this mysterious structure.

Ilia wondered at the possible outcomes of her mission. Were they even worth the possible results?

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Author's Note: How was that? I have spaced the paragraphs a bit better aso to make the whole thing easier to read.

Also, for a picture of the Twilt Captain, click here: .com/fs40/f/2009/014/c/7/Captain_Darsek_by_Reflected_


	2. Sleepy Ordon

**Chapter One**

"You don't need to worry about me any longer. Whenever you return, I will waiting for you."

- The Maiden to her Hero.

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**One week earlier…**

Thirteen years. It had been thirteen long and painful years since Link's departure. Sleepy Ordon Village had never been the same since. What was once peace and joy brought forth by Link's presence had diminished in the small village. There existed only paranoia and lament in the Hero's absence. The young one though, shows promise. With each harvest reaped with his strong arms and each goat herded by his uncanny skill with the horse, peace had perhaps returned after all.

Lady Ilia of Ordona sat silently upon the porch of her long-dead father's hut. It was an old and sturdy house built near the precious goat ranch. The sun had risen over the rolling hills and the thick forests that crowned them.

Her skin was fair still. Twenty nine was a very young age to run a village, but as Ordona's first and foremost female representative, there was no greater example of both beauty and leadership. Ilia, however, did not feel beautiful. She had not felt beautiful for more than thirteen years – not since the Hero had left them, left her, behind to pursue some wild dream. For as vivid as her bright green eyes became when hosting a debate, or for as lustily as the wind blew through her golden locks, so did she feel a deep sorrow.

Ilia was married now and had been for nigh on a decade. The man of choice was a passing merchant and Aeadis was his name while fine linens were his trade. A dashing figure that stood much taller than anyone born and raised in Ordona. Even clumsy Fado could not match the man in neither height nor strength. He fit well with the setting, mostly because it was she who caught his eye. Almost immediately, Aeadis was taken in by the community, desperate for another fine example of manhood. Even the silent and graceful warrior that was Rusl had taken well to him. It was no surprise how quickly Ilia herself fell for Aeadis and his deep brown eyes. She loved the way the wind threw back his long brown hair. His full smile reminded her of the one she used to love and that made her smile during the day while forcing tears from her eyes for every night they spent together.

It was a quick wedding, but Ilia was surprised at how much she actually enjoyed it. Two children were born in the House of the Mayor: the firstborn, a male. The second nearly twenty seconds later, a female. Twins. Ilia and Aeadis bore a pair of happy healthy, beautiful baby twins. The male was christened Hector while the female was named Gira. At long last, Ilia's family was complete even though her inner being felt fractured.

The infants had grown into toddlers, walking and babbling their first words and getting into all kinds of mischief. The seed of Ordona grew both wild and lovely as the children did. As the sun rose, Ilia found herself to be the only one fully roused and warm in the summer air. Fado had lazily passed by with the task of, once more, attempting to herd the rascal goats. Ilia bade him good morning and just as lazily, he was off. A hand found her shoulder, which startled Ilia at first, but the feeling was familiar.

Aeadis joined his wife on the porch steps. "Up early again?" he asked.

Ilia simply tilted her head to rest upon her husband's strong shoulder, "The mind rises early, but the body does not." Aeadis chuckled as he presented a cup filled with the sweet aroma of herbal tea. She welcomed the gift and the two sat silently sipping. After ten years of crying, the morning tea with a man just crazy about you seems to make it all worthwhile. For the first time that morning, she was able to smile at the memories.

Still, she wondered about Link. The last time she saw him was when he was riding away, not even glancing back to see her pleading eyes. He had not spoken much since the attack. She recalled the endless depth of his bravery and how valiantly he placed himself in harm's way to ensure her safety.

She puzzled. For thirteen years, she puzzled the reasons why he would look on her with such admiration only to part when peace had finally settled. He was a selfish man! Ilia concluded this with a frown that replaced the original warmth of her previous smile.

Aeadis pretended not to notice. For nigh on a decade, he pretended not to notice Ilia's momentary distractions around him. She sometimes found herself dreaming in the middle of a debate that she herself had organized. Most crucial was after they made love, when she would cry as if her enjoyment had suddenly vanished. The silent weeping ate away at his soul. At first he tried to talk, but all he received was a hurried explanation of mixed emotions and an equally unexplained past. But now he knew. He worried and so tried to make her life as mayor as relaxing as possible by working hard and earning his place among the men while being respectful and courteous to the women.

Since Mayor Bo's passing, the people called for Rusl to take the helm. A job to which he was not inclined to acquiesce. Instead, Aeadis stood behind Ilia and pushed for her nomination. Before long, it was his lovely new wife that took the reigns and Aeadis that made sure all performed well for her.

And she was an effective woman: industrious, firm, and fair. The people loved her, but it was Aeadis hat truly adored her. Ilia was everything her father was and more plus she was a wonderful mother to their children. With that, Young Aeadis was able to smile, despite his wife's distance. He knew the reason after the past few years. The people spoke and they revealed all once they could fully trust him. What they unearthed was a past that Ilia appeared unable to deter.

As the sun crept upward, Aeadis finally spoke, "What was his name?"

She looked at him, asking, "Excuse me?"

"What was the name of your old lover? Link was it?" It hurt Aeadis to give such a tag to someone she still loved because he so loved her.

Ilia shook her head, "Lover? Hardly. He never did much as smiled at me, let alone become a lover."

"Yet, he has been affecting you all these years. You still love him?"

"I love you, Aeadis. I would not have married you and started a family otherwise."

"Please, dear. Do you still love him?"

Ilia sighed, "Yes," and Aeadis' heart sank.

He tried to remain composed when he asked, "Why do you still love him when he took off without any warning?"

"I love him because I knew him best, yet I knew nothing. It was the mystery behind those eyes and those silly pointed ears." Aeadis understood and began to sew together his heart. However, the 'pointed ears' caught his attention.

He asked for clarification, "Pointed ears?"

"Yes," she smiled at him in such a way that his heart melted back together.

"Pointed ears." he repeated. "Was he a Hylian then?" Ilia had seen Hylians before in central Hyrule. Everyone there had pointed ears, so it only made sense that somehow he wound up in Ordona from there. Aeadis pondered, "Do you know anything about his past?"

"He never spoke of it because we were so young when he first came into our lives. I barely remember the day. It was an early morning and there was a knock on the door."

"This door?" asked Aeadis, regarding the old wooden frame and old brass hinges.

"Yes," replied Ilia. "My mother answered. She was pregnant with my little brother at the time and father Bo was out hunting."

"I never knew you had a brother," said Aeadis, surprised.

Sorrow crossed Ilia's eyes, "She was young when he arrived. But there were complications and we ended up losing-" Ilia could not continue for the hurt in her throat. Even after twenty-five years, her mother's death still cut deep within her.

"I'm sorry." said Aeadis, regret boiling within him.

"It's ok, hun," replied she. "Anyway," Ilia continued her original story, "I remember getting up to see this tall robed man holding a bundle that could only have been a small child in one arm while grasping a dripping sword in the other. I don't remember any rain the night before." Aeadis nodded slowly and Ilia pressed on, "The cloaked man appeared to be pleading with my mother, even dropping his sword to kneel before her. Reluctantly, she took the bundle and the man thanked her. As he walked away, my mother watched him curiously. He walked with a limp, trailing sword and blood behind him. I remember rushing back to bed scared. When I awoke, any blood that I saw on the ground before was wiped clean somehow, as if the swordsman never existed." Aeadis placed an arm around his wife's trembling shoulder as she said, "That was the first time I had ever seen human blood."

"What about the child?" asked Aeadis.

To this, Ilia gazed into the distance, "When father returned, mother explained all that had happened. Always the big softy, my father accepted him, even if his ears were a tad sharp." Ilia giggled for memory's sake and Aeadis felt a smile crawl across his own visage. "The entire village was rounded that very day to decide the best method of how to deal with such a child. Questions were raised about the figure who brought him, but none had seen his face, save for the golden beard that protruded from the chin. 'It was a handsome chin, much like the boy's,' my mother pointed to the committee."

"So the best guess was that the cloaked man was Link's father."

"Yes," sais she. "After discussion, the elders accepted that story."

"Who named him?"

"No one. He spoke his name quite well already."

"And how did he feel about his new surroundings."

"I remember playing with him. He never cried once in the time that I have ever known him. Always such a brave boy, even as an abandoned child." Ilia rested her head upon her husband's arm.

"Are you sure he was abandoned? Maybe a limping bloodied man had no choice," cautioned Aeadis.

"You're right," reasoned Ilia. "He never came back and there was no news from the outside about a cloaked and wounded man. It was as if he vanished out of thin air." The couple sat silently and listened to the songbirds sing a chorus with the whispering winds.

In the hut, the fires were burning and the morning meals were served. A drowsy Hector and a sleepy-eyed Gira sat upon their seats and stirred away at their honey-sweetened porridge. Their schooling began shortly thereafter with Uli from across the stream. This system had been maintained since the previous fall and the children loved Uli's warm embrace. The tutoring would never last for more than an hour. With each passing lesson, the twins and their mentalities grew and Ilia noted the progress. On her regular duties, the twins were with her. Other times, it was father Aeadis that took charge and brought them about the village. On this particular morning, it was not only Uli who appeared, but her first born, Colin.

Ilia greeted them both with warm smiles. Colin's blond hair had grown near his broad shoulders, but was kempt and tied neatly. The boy was now a man of twenty-two and still a bachelor, despite young Beth's advances. Colin spent most of his time hunting and fishing and practising his swordplay with his aged father. Often, the peaceful Colin was at work with clumsy Fado, herding and managing the fickle goats. In the depths of Ilia's mind, she saw Link's influence on the young man: a swordsman, a rider, a farm hand, a kind soul. Perhaps the most indicative of these was how Colin cared for his sister, Uma. The thirteen year old girl was not nearly as quiet or reserved as her older brother, yet he cared to teach her the ways of the horse and the calming sport of fishing. In the chilling early spring, the two could be seen along the lake's edge with their hand-crafted poles and brightly coloured bobbers. In many ways, the golden-haired Uma resembled the lost Link every bit as much as Colin did. At that, Ilia felt at ease about Ordona's future. "Morning, Lady Ilia," began Colin with a shy smile upon his cleanly shaven features.

"Good morning to you to, master Colin," Ilia was amused by such formalities. "Good morning to you, Uli. Please come in."

The soft-hearted woman smiled and replied, "And good morning to you too, Ilia, how are the twins today?"

"Waiting eagerly for their lessons."

The twins perked from their near-slumber, "Aunty Uli!" They both shouted in unison and began to stumble toward her. Uli bent low to scoop the toddlers in her embrace. Ilia and Colin watched as Uli led them near the fire with her bundle of lessons and songs.

Colin said, "I think she misses having children of her own now that Uma is independent and I am always away." Ilia nodded, "I sing to them every night and play with them at any opportunity I get. Aeadis has them on other occasions."

"You seem to be getting well with your family. I'm happy for you." Colin shot Ilia a warm sentiment.

"Thank you, Colin. You've always been a good friend to me." Colin's blue eyes held hers for a moment before he blinked and said, "Well, it was nice to see you today, but I've got to take the horses to Fado. Uma is coming with me."

"Are you not coming in? Even for a moment?"

"Sorry, Il. I'd love to but I've got work to do."

"I understand," she said absently. "Have a good day then, Master Colin."

"You too, Lady Ilia." The lady mayor of Ordona watched as her childhood friend walked away to meet the lovely young Uma riding up to him on their stallion. It was Aeadis who gave the black steed to Colin's family as a gift. The original parents that the wealthy merchant brought from his travels resided in Fado's ranch. Over the years, Aeadis purchased another mating pair and it was not long before nearly every child in Ordon had his or her own pony to call his or her own. Aeadis was a giving man and Ilia loved him all the more for it. Still, for all of his love, she still wondered about Link and his role in the world.


	3. The Former Hero

**Chapter Two: The Former Hero**

**

* * *

"**You really are the chosen one, Link… A true hero!"

-The Twilight Princess to her Hero

* * *

Link lay alone before the tattered ashes of the previous night's fire. Soot clung to the brown cloak he was using as a blanket. As he roused from his slumber, both the smell and the sounds of morning teased his senses. Golden sun rays danced through the forest canopy and nearly blinded the former hero. The brightness made him stir. He remembered the brightness of the Mirror Chamber moments before it was sealed away forever. This memory both saddened and angered Link and he tightened his eyelids and turned away from the light. A hot moisture washed across his bearded face. Large smooth wet lips traced across Link's cheeks when he finally roused and raised his hands to gently stroke the strong shout of his life-long equestrian friend. Epona aged well, but age was still present. Link recalled the past fifteen years when Epona was but a small pony whom had taken a liking to the long-eared Hylian. The noble mare was pushing her sixteenth year, but she pushed gracefully. Link's blue eyes met those amber brown of Epona and the sight of her active master sent a jolt of contentment through her. Link stood to his full height and smoothed back the grease in his long golden hair before letting a tiresome yawn echo through the sleepy morning mist. Link removed the large heavy cloak and folded it promptly before storing it inside his traveller's pack. His bare back tingled as the misty air kissed the naked flesh. He reached for the dew-covered boots and folded green tunic before trotting off toward the nearby creek.

Link studied the small pool of crystal-clear water gathered within his enclosed palms. His reflection stared blackly back at him before he splashed the refreshing liquid across his face. Silky beads rolled from his eyelids down his cheeks before getting lost in the yellow forest that was Link's unshorn face. Others rolled down the tip of his nose and found a similar fate with the thick brush that was his upper lip.

Link had grown. Since the time he left sleepy Ordon on his quest, he had grown. Broader shoulders atop a taller frame and an overall increase of body mass in the form of muscle. Thirteen years, however, saw the only the progression of growth and no progression toward any answers was found. His quest was simple in principle: return to Twilight. This single vocation consumed his very soul. For thirteen years, the desire had not waned, but his goal remained at its initial distance: zero. Mostly, Link argued to his inner self, due to distraction. People everywhere are in need and Link could never help but to charge in and assail any problem that the hapless beings of Hyrule found to great to assail themselves. Being a hero was no easy occupation to walk away from. After thirteen years, Link knew the landscape better than the back of his own gauntleted hand. Thirteen years of a fruitless venture and Link was beginning to wonder as to why he sought the Twilight. He was sure that it was beyond trivial, but the notion seemed palpable still. By now, she must have forgotten about him. By now her reign as Queen was solid and her people contented. By now, she must have stifled any emotions that she shared for him, friend or otherwise. All Link knew is that he wanted, no; needed to return to Twilight and gaze upon her once more. Just this one last grace….

Link sat down by the creek's edge and dipped his feet into the pool. The cool water washed away the grime and dirt while maintaining its original purity. The water in Hyrule was indeed blessed. Link thought of the Sacred Springs strewn across the provinces of the Kingdom. To each, Link had paid homage and requested audience with the Light Spirits. By each, he was rejected and they remained silent. The mighty Faron did not stir, nor did the angelic Eldin or graceful Ordonna spirits. Lanayru the serpent held its forked tongue when first prompted and held it further since. The guardians, as it seemed to Link, were responsive only in times of need. If that was the case, then Link wished dearly for another siege by the Twilight in order to cross over once more. It was such that his only remaining option lay in the counsel of the Hylian Queen.

Link recalled his last venture into the Daylight City that surrounded the castle. The old structure had lost its upper-most levels in the Twilight Invasion's final stages, but repairs had been, for the most part, positive. There remained several more years, since his last visit, until the battlements were restored to their former splendour, and those years had come and gone. Link requested an audience with the Queen herself but was denied by the Steward of the Throne, as Queen Zelda was absent at the time of his arrival. When asked how long her absence would be, the Steward simply implied that it was none of his business, ranging from weeks to months, even unto the coming years.

It had been five years since that day and still, Zelda had not returned. The Steward still sat in his place before the throne and Hyrule's peace had been complete ever since, the people blissfully unaware of their Queen's extended leave.

The damage caused by the Twilight had washed away in the thirteen years worth of seasons. For that time, the legacy of the Hero of Light faded with the green on Link's tunic. Ever since he restored the Blade of Evil's Bane to its rightful place within Time's Temple ruins, the green-clad former hero had fallen into disfavour with the Gods of Fate. Link felt used and forgotten. As if his courage was milked into the sacrificial pots of destiny only to be cast aside once the ritual was complete. This angered Link greatly when his request was simple: Grant me the blessing of her face once more. The goddesses were generous with their blessings when the Invasion was underway, but once the curtain of Twilight was lifted and Ganondorf slain, they did not see Link as fit to stand by the Queen of Twilight, to treat with her as he pleased. Yes, this indeed made Link very angry on that most beautiful and warm of summer mornings.

Defeated, he lay back and let his feet soak a moment longer. Sleep suddenly visited, though its feeling was not of the lax nature, but of an unnatural fervour. The world around him lost its colour and he suddenly stumbled to his feet. His heart beat and his lungs burned. A bright ring formed on the ground next to the edge of the creek and Link fell backwards into the water. The ring was wide and the forest around it burned. Epona was nowhere to be seen, but that did not matter as two figures materialized in front of his eyes. One was a man. A tall man garbed in brown fabrics, his head covered by a hood. Beneath the long sleeves glistened the sheen of chain mail. This man was either a soldier or a simple swordsman, there was no distinction. In his gauntleted fists grasped a long blade, crafted by the smithies of Hyrule. The Royal emblem was crested into the side of the sword's hilt. Link instinctively reached for the Ordonian handle that should have been wrested to his back, but grasped at nothing. Silently, Link cursed as a crescent of falling pixels collected and the other form appeared.

On the opposing side of the ring was a figure in dark ornate armour. The shadow that wrapped itself around the taller figure was familiar to Link's dried eyes. This man, were it a man, appeared unarmed, though well protected from within his glowing armour. The shell itself bore strange glowing symbols that snaked around the leg and arm pieces. Could it be… thought Link, is that a-

The swordsman of Hyrule took a step forward and readied his long blade. The black knight, glowing crimson eyes emanating from behind a black steel beaver, bellowed a loud foreign cry. A cry that was not so foreign to Link's ears. With a twist of the wrist, the armoured being reached for the air behind him and grasped tightly. Black swirls of smoke appeared and a long curved blade formed in the knight's metallic hand. The sword solidified and became sharp. Bright red glyphs, much like the cyan upon the man's armour, etched itself within the magical length of the blade.

At that, the duel was begun. The human form ran first at the armoured form. Their blades clashed and sparks flew. Without warning, the armoured knight lashed forward with his leg and sent the human flying back towards the awestruck Link. The man's hood fell and Link was shocked to see his own face. A large scar stretched from chin to grazing past the right eye. It was a hideous disfigurement, but the bright blue eyes and pointed ears told no lie. Even the golden beard resembled his own, but there was one feature that was different: the nose. Link looked closer and saw that his own nose was pointed, as opposed to the swordsman's rounder nostrils. Was this even him? The armoured shadow approached and swung his blade up on high, poised to bring it down and end the man's life.

Time slowed at that instant. As the shadow blade fell, the scarred man locked eyes with Link. The fallen man parted his lips and spoke in a grizzled raspy voice that was not Link's own, "Son…"

Link awoke with a start and a mouth full of water. The sun was rising higher and the birds sung louder than before. Coughing and wheezing, Link felt a sudden force grab his tights and pull him out of the water. Whatever force that was, has strong teeth and Link let out a howl of pain. Full of rage, he leapt up to attack the feral beast that was foolish enough to cross him! Instead, he saw the bright brown eyes of Epona as she let go of his sopping wet tights. The fury drained from in as the dripping water left his clothing. Eventually, Link smiled and rubbed the nose of his faithful mare. "Thank you, Epona." The worried horse released a gleeful whine and sat down at her master's shaken side. "What a dream," he said to her finally. Link laid back against Epona's muscular hip and wondered whether or not that what he had experienced was even a dream. Even so, the warrior rose and adored his tunic, despite the dampened trousers. The day's ride would see them dry eventually.

As they rode, Link's mind rose, like the sun, into the skies. The wind took up his cap and caused it to flap obediently upwards. Upwards, thought Link as he galloped on, Upwards. The idea struck him as the sling-borne pumpkin seed strikes its target. Like such a target, Link nearly fell off his mount. He had spent thirteen years pleading with the powers of earthbound Hyrule, yet, never did he think to rise to the clouds. To the limitless sky where the bird people thrive, that may be the key! Link's last endeavour to the floating City in the Sky was destructive and cast aflame by the breath of Argorok, the Twilit Dragon. Perhaps the Oocca were still as thankful as they had been when the dragon was first slain. Goddesses, if he had not been present at that time, the winged foe would still be dominating the skies that rightfully belonged the queer chicken folk. And Link knew from his travels that dragons lived far longer than any human or Oocca alike...or did they? Yes! Either way, they must welcome him with open arms - or wings - assuming of course, that his ancient method of transportation had gone unmolested for the past dozen years. Link prayed for no such reality as he made way toward Lake Hylia.


	4. Departure for Truth

**Chapter Three: Departure for Truth**

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* * *

**So I have come to learn the truth…

-The Old Knight to the New Hero

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Ilia awoke with a start. She could not remember the dream she just had, but knew that it was most terrible. In fact, Ilia found herself thanking the goddesses for sparing her the wretched details that gave her such a fright. The sun was yet to rise and Aeadis was sound asleep at her side. Though the desire to close her eyes dwelled along the surface of her intentions, a deep curiosity would not be satisfied. She rose and gathered her night gown before descending the stairs to her front door. Why did she possess the vocation to open it? Before she reached for the door handle, Ilia took a glance over her shoulder to check on the twins in their beds. Both were safe and sound within the realm of their innocent dreams. The door opened on its own and a cold gust of wind overtook her. Rain, like thousands of angered tears, fell upon the soft Ordonian earth. There, standing amid the frame of the old wooden door was the form of a small human, cloaked and wet. Cold eyes peered from sockets hidden behind a veil of long silver hair. A woman; an old woman, alone and quiet. Ilia stood in shock, for there was no rain when she awoke. Was this a dream as well? Do they exist? Dreams within dreams?" The old woman did not stir, but Ilia stepped forward, both curious and irritated by such inconvenience. As she stepped to greet the quiet woman, a bony finger rose from her wetted sleeve. A voice, one that matched the suffocating depth of her black eyes, rose from withered lips, "Child." Ilia froze, staring agape at what she argued was either a vision or a demon. Then, she felt saddened by the old woman's presence. Once again, she spoke, "Child of the Strong, heed my call."

Ilia heeded, for it was all she could bare to do. The elder's finger was frozen in her direction, accusingly. The old woman spoke again, "The sorrow you feel runs far deeper than you perceive. The Hero of Light is a hero no more, yet his destiny remains unfulfilled."

Link, thought Ilia. "Yes," responded the woman to Ilia's feelings, "The one you know as Link seeks what he cannot find in these lands. In his travels, great perils await, though none may understand, for none seek to understand."

"I want to understand," said Ilia. "I want to know how and why he came and went. I want to understand who he is and why he is." The woman lowered her accusing finger, much to Ilia's relief. "The peril exists in many forms, Child of the Strong. His strength is great, but not unlimited. Your leadership is bold, but unchallenged." Ilia could not agree with this statement. There have been many a trial and tribulation for the village, even for one so sleepy as Ordon. There was flood, drought, unrest, raiding parties of the thankfully disorganized Bokoblin camps. "Fire and storm await Hyrule, Child," said the old woman, "your sanctuary is by no means immune to the evil that awaits." Ilia struggled to understand what she was hearing as it was spoken, "Twilight descended and was removed by he who was blessed. However, in the lands beyond recognition, a new enemy is at play. Of the four directions, they rally and plot, though unwillingly." Ilia shook her head, "Other nations, you mean? Beyond the mountain's cradle?" The old woman simply nodded. "Who do you speak of?" asked Ilia, for it was her turn to speak, "Who is this new enemy to Hyrule?"

"She is of four. She is of Darkness and of Light. She governs the heavens, yet her eyes have fallen to govern the land. She is of four. AND SHE WILL HAVE ALL." The voice was strong and Ilia was forced to grimace under the pressure. "Child of the Strong," the old woman's voice was soft and weak once more, "the true test of your own strength arrives as surely as the sun rises in the morning. However, to survive, you must seek the key of the past. Though this past is not your own."

"Then whose is it?" asked Ilia. The rain stopped and the door was closed. Sunlight shone vividly through the window panes and the songbirds began their ballads. Ilia stood, vacantly watching the door, praying for an answer. "You alright?" Aeadis was atop the stairs holding his unshaven chin upon his fist, a look of both curiosity and wonder upon his confused face. Ilia was still erect and dumbstruck by her vision. Was it even a vision? The uniquely woven mat before the door and the wooden flooring around it was saturated with puddles of freshly fallen water.

Once again, breakfast was swift and tangible, though Ilia's attention was elsewhere. Occupied, she absently stirred the floating honey wafers that floated about in rich goat's milk. Aeadis had finished his bowl and was aiding little Gira break her wafers into her own bowl of milk. Hector stared at his mother with both curiosity and contempt at the fact that his father was occupied with the girl and his mother was busied herself not with him. Without little reason, the young lad flipped the bowl and spilled its contents across the table's top and upon his mother's lap. Aeadis mumbled a silent curse and rose with a towel to wipe the intruding puddle of milk. It was only when the liquid met the flesh beneath Ilia's gown that she reacted. Hector, satisfied with his victory ignored his father's reprimand until a sharp slap was received upon his tiny hand. Hector's brown eyes welled with tears as he bit his lip. Little Gira, amused by the fuss that her parents were making by Hector's actions, decided to cause trouble of her own. In less than five seconds after her brother's initial manoeuvre, Gira repeated the action. Only this time, the wooden bowl was lifted uneasily into the air, its contents spilling at random, before being tossed across the table and skidding to ward the floor. As soon as Hector's reprimand was delivered, Gira sensed her own pending judgement and it came mercilessly. The twins rubbed their swollen wrists as the adults cleared the table of their offspring's throes for attention.

Aeadis cleared the plates as Ilia wiped the kitchen surfaces. He took a sidelong glance at his beautiful wife and wondered if Link was still a burden on her soul. Aeadis decided to begin a conversation as the children were being given their tutelage by Uli. "What possessed you to walk about at night?" Ilia halted her task and said, "I had a terrible dream that I cannot remember. So I awoke and could not find sleep again."

"So you decided to walk about the house and not rouse me?"

"There was a knocking at the door."

"At dawn?"

"Yes," Ilia answered and Aeadis considered this, "Who was it?"

"Aeadis, I'm still not sure whether or not it happened. I didn't even open the door."

"Well," said he, "that puddle of water at the threshold tells me otherwise."

"I did not open the door, husband. She opened it from outside." Aeadis halted his actions and stared at his wife, "A 'she' opened our locked door before dawn in a downpour?"

"Yes," was Ilia's response. She did not expect her husband to understand. His next comment came as no surprise, "I bet it was another bad dream, you know, those dreams within dreams. You were simply sleepwalking in response to those dreams." Ilia felt hopeless, yet Aeadis' explanation was a logical one. He then asked, "Did this woman speak to you? What did she look like?" Ilia told her husband all that had transpired. To all that, Aeadis replied, "If I was a reader of omens, I'd be spilling bricks and repenting my soul to the Goddesses." Ilia laughed and said thoughtfully, "I was told not to seek my own past, but another."

"Did she mean Link?" asked Aeadis. Ilia considered that as her husband reinforced his opinion, "It only makes sense that you would dream so vividly about discovering his past, because you don't know it. All this ill-omen stuff perhaps magnifies the urgency of your desire for answers." Ilia was astounded by the logic within Aeadis' observations. He knew that she still loved the Hero, Link. At this, she felt sorry for her husband's grief, but he was right about her curiosity. "I think I know someone who could help you." Ilia's ears perked, "How so?"

"It only seems logical to start with his origins and work your way around that. Am I right?"

"I guess so." Ilia was not sure of Aeadis' angle, but her own curiosity and desire for truth forced her to listen, "Your Link is a Hylian, right?"

"Yes." Ilia thought fondly of those pointed ears. Aeadis continued, "The man you assume was his father carried a blade. Do you know what kind it was?"

"I'm no fan of swords or their use, husband." said Ilia sternly. "It was just a sword with a silver and black handle." Aeadis paused then asked, "Silver and black? Are you sure?" To which, Ilia said, "Yes. It was dark, but the lantern light illuminated the silver within the handle. It was the first thing that caught my eye before I noticed that he was not alone." Aeadis smiled and gazed unto his wife's beautifully perplexed visage, "There's your first clue." Ilia paused and bade her husband continue, "Only the Knights of Hyrule carry such a blade." Ilia had to ask, "How do you know this?" To which, Aeadis replied, "I have a friend in Castle Town who spent a great deal of time around the castle per se. I've done business with him before and we've helped each other out in the past. It was through him that I met a woman named Telma."

"You know Telma? The bar owner?"

"I assume you know her as well?"

"I owe many things to her."

"In that case," said Aeadis, "I owe her much as well." Ilia smiled, "And how is that?" Aeadis' face was flush and he could barely maintain eye contact, "Well, she spoke avidly of a beautiful maiden from Ordonna Province that was spirited to her town during the Dark Time. I could only assume that the maiden of unsurpassed beauty was you." Aeadis drew one of the smirks that only a salesman could procure, but only a lover could maintain. "So, I travelled far from my market to try my luck in the quiet country side. Needless to say, I struck gold." It cut deeply to pour his soul knowing that Ilia's love was not completely his. Still, he loved her enough to help her unfurl the mystery behind her love that was never meant to be. Ilia's eyes were bright. Maybe, thought Aeadis, she knew as well what he was trying to do. Pride could not enter into the equation. Never as a salesman and never as a husband. Ilia asked him of the name that his friend bore, to which Aeadis plainly said, "Auru. His name is Auru. He can tell you everything you want to know about…well, anything."

"How can I reach him?" asked she, "Mail perhaps?" Aeadis laughed sarcastically, "Auru can never be reached beyond the length of your arm. You have to find him." Ilia took a moment to process what her husband was suggesting. "Traveling?" she asked, "You intend for me to-"

"Not intend, my love," Aeadis touched the sleeve of his wife's gown, "I'm only suggesting that you take our steed, Estbar and perhaps take Colin and Uma with you as company." Ilia was adamant, "I am not leaving my family!" Sorrow crossed his eyes, "If you dwell on Link for too long, dear, you will lose us anyway." Ilia was shocked to hear such words from her husband, but was perhaps more disappointed in the truth they held. Deep down, she understood the need for her to learn or her lost love's past, and perhaps forgive him for his flightiness. She felt a strong hand reach from her sleeve to her arm and a strong force pulling her inward. In the next moment, Ilia found herself in Aeadis' arms, clasped within a tight embrace. Their lips were one and for a brief moment, all of her own desire flooded into his mouth in which he happily received the passion. So warm was her touch and so gentle was his embrace. Ilia thanked the goddesses truly - for the first time in a long time - that Aeadis was, indeed, hers.

Afternoon was well under way when the final preparations were met. Ilia would depart the next morning, at first sunrise. The mighty young horse Estbar would convey both the lady and her supplies for the three-day's journey. All that remained was to request Colin's presence. "It would take no more than a few days, Colin," pleaded Ilia. "I would feel much safer with you around."

"And the village?" Asked Colin, "Three people leaving would set us back a while and I cannot neglect my work. Besides, Uma needs-"

"Uma," said a third voice, "can take care of herself, thank you very much!" The long-haired, freckle-faced Uma appeared from around the family hut's garden. Colin was taken aback by his little sister's sudden appearance but remained firm, "You must stay. The village needs at least one of us here." Ilia interrupted, "Oh, so you will come along then, master Colin?" Caught, the blonde-haired young man sighed and mumbled, "yes, ma'am. Count me in."

"And me too, Lady Ilia!" Uma was flush with excitement. All this to which Colin said, "No." The young girl's pleading eyes fell upon soft Ilia's heart, even though she wished already for the young maiden to accompany her. Uma was strong for her age and Colin was simply looking out for her. Still, the final decision remained with her. "Colin and Uma, you shall both accompany me on this trip. And, as the decision is mine to make, there will be no argument. I am no democracy and the village will survive a few days."

"Who will you leave in charge, Lady Ilia?" asked a curious Uma. Ilia said, "I will let the remainder vote for their acting chief." At that, the lady mayor of Ordonna raised her chin and said, "Make ready your steeds and provisions for a three-days journey to Castle Town. I will meet you by the bridge at dawn."

Night fell like the sheets of rain from a windy storm: fast and heavy. There was an odd silence that stirred not even the crickets or cicadas of the evening. There was no rain, however. Nor was there wind to accompany the falling night. Ilia lay awake, furled next to Aeadis. She was unsure of the path ahead, but determined to travel it. The idea of learning about her old love's mysterious past was far too tangible for a sleeping mouth to taste. The more she wondered of Link, the more she wondered of his father. What could have happened that forced a man, a possible Knight of Hyrule, to abandon his only known son and disappear? She needed to know everything if she wanted to free herself to her waiting husband.


	5. Gunpowder Transaction

**Chapter Four: Gunpowder Transaction**

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* * *

**

"See, long ago, I saved this man Fyer's life, and now he cannot refuse me if I ask a favor. If you leave the rest up to Fyer, all should go well."

-The Old Knight on the Ballistic Vendor

* * *

Even after thirteen years, Fyer was still perched before his cannon, waiting for the next available customer willing to be projected into the heavens. It was no surprise to Link that when he approached the diminutive firearms expert, he was not recognized. A baker's dozen worth of years had not been totally kind to Fyer as they had been to Link. For all of the gunner's businesslike demeanour, his moustache was extended, greyed and his belly distended further. Link noticed the same combination of colours that Fyer wore even thirteen years earlier. Even as Link came to a halt before the silent, gloomy-looking little man, his features appeared not to spark a reaction. Perhaps it was Link's golden beard that circled his mouth and cheeks. Or perhaps it was the faded green of his Hero's tunic. Was Link taller than before? It did not matter, for Link decided to speak, "Fyer," he began, "it's been a while."

The cannon man blinked and tilted his head, "Naw, it couldn't be." Link smiled from behind his scruff, his blue eyes glinting. "You're the lad with the old gun from all those years ago." Fyer's own sombre eyes appeared to glimmer with memories of the lucrative venture.

Link took a glance around to the empty space where his Sky Cannon once sat. Confusion and near-anger boiled inside him before he calmed his nerve and asked, "How has business been?"

"Not bad, I must say." said the little chapeau'd man. "I mean, business was good when you were around, but since then I've actually been able to expand my market. That three-hundred you gave me for that Sky Gun job of yours allowed me to make some down payments on other projects and voila: I now have guns and landing sites all over Hyrule!"

Despite his own confusion, Link's interest was captured. He asked, "People have finally taken to your mode of transportation, then?"

"Oh yes," replied Fyer. "Bigwigs and the like caught their eyes on my cannons and a few questions later, CannonAide: Fyer's Flyers Club was finally a reality."

Link gave the little man a questioning look, "You had a vision like that? Goddesses Fyer, I would never have expected something so ambitious from you." It took a moment before Link realized the insulting potential of his comment, but to his surprise, the quip was met with laughter.

"Not the first time I heard that! But I won't complain, I basically have you to thank."

Link was now further perplexed, but his anger was simmered. "Why me?" asked the warrior.

Fyer explained, "Well, I was able to replicate the technology within that Sky Gun of yours and patent it."

"Speaking of my Gun, Fyer," asserted Link.

Guilt suddenly swam across the small man's face. "I -er," Link braced himself, "I kinda sold it to this exuberant young lad about ten years ago, lad."

"Sold it!" ejaculated Link, "Why would you do that to someone else's property?"

Fyer's gloomy face sank, "I refused at first, but he was insistent, you see?"

Link remained unimpressed. This compounded with his dire need to reach the Sky. Without a second thought, Link seized the little man by his collar and held him close to his pointed nose. "I'm only going to ask this once and you had better not lie." The fear in Fyer's sunken eyes matched the helplessness of his dangling feet.

He pleaded, "Please, son. You have to understand, she was going unused, though I did take good care of 'er. This young, fine-dressed man approached me and asked questions, exclaiming that his had seen this structure before."

Link's memory was jogged and he set little Fyer down and knelt down to his eye level. "Go on."

Fyer continued, "He wanted to know who owned such a Gun and I told him that I have a strict customer confidence policy. All I told him was this it was old, repaired, and used only once before. I could not tell him where you went 'cause I don't even know m'self."

Link sat down and rubbed his sore temples, "Then what?"

"He did seem interested but dropped the history lesson and offered me the deal, which I refused for about a month. Every day he'd come in with a higher price to offer me. Finally, he approached me with a large sack of silver rupees. Thirty thousand rupees worth! By then I had already patented the innards and was on my way to making a large business venture. An extra thirty large would have- an did - help me greatly."

Link waved off the finances and looked Fyer dead in the eyes before asking, "Did he give his name?"

"Link, I can't-"

"Was he from Castle Town?"

"With those clothes, yes, but-"  "Was his name Shad?"

"I don't-"

"TELL ME!" Link caught his anger and let it settle once more. Fyer's pale completion told Link that he had strayed too far only to discover that his sweaty palm was wrapped around the steel hilt of his Ordon Sword. Fyer stepped back, but was too afraid to move further. Link relinquished his grip on the blade handle and sighed, asking, "Fyer. Please. I need to know."

The little man nodded, "Okay. Come inside, I'll tell you everything you want to know."

It was Shad after all. The scholar, for nearly ten years had been in possession of the canon that both he and Link discovered beneath the dirty roads of Kakariko Village. With Fyer's business booming all around Hyrule, it was no longer uncommon, according to the salesman, for people - albeit the higher classes - to have their own cannons and landing pads. Fyer was a wealthy man now that his plans bore fruit and his abode was built directly into the rock that surrounded Lake Hylia. It was a humble home, not unlike the one Link left behind in Ordon. In fact, many linens and furniture set about the cliff-side house originated from Ordon. Each features the signature goat horn seal of approval by the sleepy village's fine craftsmen. Link wondered about the place he once called his own, but did not let that distract from his dealings with Fyer. The little cannon man could not specify just where Shad resided, but Link held an idea. Immediately, he rose. Fyer followed and asked, "Where are you off to now, buddy?"

Link turned and smiled to the business man, "I'm sorry for the scare earlier, Fyer."

"Aw, think nothing of it, buddy!" I was foolish to let that beauty out of my sight anyway. Besides, that Shad boy looks like a mild-mannered young man, I'm sure he's taken good care of it. Doesn't seem the rough type to me."

Link smiled and was off to the surface. He recalled where he left Epona, in the care of the game man named Falbi. As he approached the door, Fyer followed saying, "Do you want to go back up top?"

"Yes," replied Link.

"Well then," said Fyer, "I don't see how you can return without the use of my canon."

"It's okay, Fyer," replied the warrior. "I have my own way."

Outside, Link pulled out his withered old map and gazed upward at the geometric oddity that was the Twilight Portal, hanging aloof above the flat atoll upon which he stood. There was something intriguing, yet disturbing about that portal, and all the other portals hanging about the land. Even when she left, those magical gateways hung like scars in the skies of a formerly ravaged Hyrule.

Perhaps she left them with the thought of maintaining his memory of her? Not likely. No amount of any conceivable thing could break his memories of the monarch whom he adored. So, as he stood upon the atoll below the mystic gateway, Link's spirit sank upon the sudden realization. She was not going to teleport him, for she was no longer within reach. Link was blinded by his own foresight. Even after thirteen years, even after so many quick, nervous glances at his own shadow, hoping the ghostly spirit would arise to scold him, Link knew the shadow would not come to his aide.

So there he stood, alone, abandoned.

Link folded the withered map and stored it as he walked toward Fyer's canon.

The little man smiled as the bearded warrior approached. "Needed time to think about where you were goin', buddy?" asked he in a friendly tone.

Link's sorrowful features became masked behind a lie, "Yeah. To the surface, for now."

"Good choice. I'll send ya up for no charge. Consider my gratis service as an apology for my lack of foundation earlier."

The crank shafts and gears rolled with well-oiled precision and the entire structure of Fyer's canon housing rotated on its own axis before locking into an active firing position. With a few adjustments here and a final powder measurement there; a tug of the lanyard and Link was away.

Castle Town had not changed either. Thirteen years and the only fresh scenery was belayed in the newly repaired battlements of Hyrule Castle. Such fanfare that was characteristic of the Town never ceased to fill the air while the Town's inhabitants filled the streets. Link stayed well away from the brass Castle gates and wove deeper into the crowds. Telma's bar was around the corner, only a few meters away. A chubby guard, one clad in iron and baring the symbol of the Hyrulean Royalty, held out a palm to bar Link's decent into the tavern's main entrance. The mailed and plated gauntlet pressed hard into the warrior's abdomen and Link halted. "Where do you think you're going?" asked the guard. Link simply stared at the shorter man and glared menacingly into the dark narrow eye slit of the sentry's tin can of a helmet. Link's own fierce sapphire eyes burned with annoyance. The dark slit gazed blankly up and down and took notice of the large iron blade that was bound to the back of the traveler's faded tunica. Slowly, the hand removed itself from Link's body and the guard stepped aside. Link's eyes did not relinquish their savage hold until the bearded man was well down the stairs and through the threshold of Telma's Pub.

For a late afternoon, the Pub was alive with strange faces that sat and conversed warmly. The atmosphere was mercurial as men and women exchanged excited talk with the few hard-hard Goron that strutted about. Even some Zora floated about gracefully as they mingled with the varied masses. Indeed, it was a full house, but there were no familiar faces that Link could pick out.

Then, "Link?" The sound of his name being harkened to caught the Hylian's pointed ears and he turned to face its source.

"Link! It is you!"

A rather large woman pushed her way through a group of Goron and human merchants. Telma halted her bulk before Link's feet, her sizable bust mere a decameter from his whiskered face. Link tried not to let his eyes wander as Telma bent lower to study paralyzed patron.

Full pursed lips parted to become a warm smile and strong arms wrapped themselves around Link's frame. "Oh, it is you!"

As the python-esque arms squeezed the breath out of Link, he replied, "Hello Telma," and with his last gasp, she let go. Link fought to maintain his deportment as he recovered from the closest experience with death since facing the Dark Lord. Time had treated the darker Hylian woman well. Her size was more or less the same and her pointed ears carried a few more golden loops and the like as they were presented on a woman's ear. The bar itself remained unchanged and the aspect sat well with Link, who could live with change, so long as it was not all at once. This, however was contrary to his actions, which adapted well to radical shifts. Though, it is said that those who wish not for change are often veterans of it.

Telma rested her hands upon her wide hips and waddled over to the group of Gorons and lifted a frothy mug from their table saying, "Everybody, listen up! Allow me to introduce to you: Link, the unsung Hero of Hyrule. Were it not for him, we'd all be sucking on that Dark sludge those many years ago!"

Relevant or not, the patrons each raised a glass and shouted loud accolades, even if only to join the cheer. Link made an attempt to escape the limelight but was found again by Telma, having just placed the empty mug back onto the Goron table. The large jolly woman, clearly unaffected by the mug's contents, sat Link down at a nearby table and silently studied his feature. It made the warrior uncomfortable, but alas, he digressed. A firm hand from Telma ran itself down the length of Link's beard as the woman chuckled. "Were it not for the brilliant eyes, hun," she began, "I would never have seen through that beard of yours."

"I'm glad that I'm so noticeable," said Link dismayed at his lack of subtlety.

Telma smiled again saying, "Well, even though it makes you look more rugged, I prefer the smooth cheeks that bordered your broad smiles."

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Telma, but it took far too long to grow this thing and I've grown rather fond of it. Though, tonight, you've ruined its purpose."

Telma studied him again, though with less time taken. "What exactly are you hiding from, dear? What did you do?" Link replied, "I'm not in hiding, nor did I do anything besides leave my old life behind."

"Why would you do a thing like that? What about Ilia, and Ordon?"

"Old dreams, Telma. Simple and wanton. I'm searching for something…privately."

Unimpressed, Telma asked, "Might I inquire as to what you are searching for and why?" This annoyed Link coming from Telma as it did from his own conscience thirteen years ago, although Telma could not know the greater reasoning.

No one could know.

"I cannot say, Telma. I'm sorry." Link was somber in his response.

"Is it worth leaving that darling girl behind?" asked the bar lady. 'What happened to you two?"

"Ilia cannot offer what I seek." replied Link. "Not anymore."

"But the way you would look at her when I first met you. I swear that you two were a fair-tale come true." Sad disappointment washed across the Pub-owner's visage.

Link sighed and shook his head, "Yeah, the Cat's Meow, right? Speaking of which, where is your cat, Louise?"

Telma said solemnly, "Passed peacefully about eight years ago, but not before she birthed a litter of kittens from one of the neighbours' toms." As she explained, a fluffy black and white mass mounted the table. Its face was flat and white with a black smear running between its vivid green eyes and up around the skull. It wore black patched about its paws and along its long tail. "Hello, Riddle," said Telma as she ran her polished fingers through the feline's long coat of fine flecked fur. The cat gave a happy meow as it sat down and began to purr. "He was Louise's firstborn and I've treasured him ever since." After a moment, Riddle was satisfied with the attention and briskly leapt down off the tabletop.

Telma spoke as she watched the cat waddle off saying, "Honestly, Link. For as much as I miss my Louise, I am thankful that Riddle is around to help me cope. I see her live on through those green eyes that her son carries."

Link tried to comprehend the small talk, but Telma's sad eyes found him, "It pains me to see that you are unable to let go of whatever it is you're searching for and that you left a perfectly good chapter unread in your life."

"Telma…"

"I know, I can't do a thing to change it, though I wish I could," said she. "It was your choice and I guess I must trust your judgment, hero."

"I am no longer a hero, Telma," said Link. "I am a nomad, nothing more."

"A lost spirit, sounds more like it."

"Listen, Telma, please!" pleaded Link, "In order to find these answers, I need yours. Will you help me?"

"I can try." said the bar lady.

Link reached out and placed his gauntleted hand upon Telma's, "I need to find Shad. Do you know where he is?"

Telma considered this and thought before she answered, "Well, I haven't seen the Group together for a few years now, at least not for long in this pub. As for Shad, I assume that he is still on his expedition."

"Expedition? Where to, do you know?" asked Link.

Telma replied, "He asked me if I wanted to attend, but I declined, as I couldn't trust the Pub to anyone but myself for such a long period of time. The place he was looking at is an ancient ruin that he stumbled across about thirteen years ago, when I last saw you. He's been circulating between what he calls an ancient temple and Castle Town ever since."

The Sacred Grove in Faron, thought Link. Excited, the former Hero of Light rose to depart, but was halted subconsciously by an awestruck Telma.

The red-headed woman asked, "Whatever you are looking for, hun, I sure hope you find it soon."

"Thank you, Telma. I'll be in touch." Link quickly dashed over to Telma and gave her a jubilant squeeze. As Link turned about, his body was met with a solid rock wall. Link gazed upward and studied the familiar texture of stone-like Goron flesh, painted with ritual tribe patterning. The large mauve eyed mask that was the Goron's face bent low to examine Link. Stern stony lips parted to reveal a pair of large white teeth in a Goron-like attempt for a grin.

Link relaxed as the rock man's featured softened and it spoke, "You are the one who wore green all those years ago."

"I am among many who wear green," replied Link.

"Yes," said the Goron, "but only you lifted our sorrow in our time of need, or at least that is what I have heard."

"Were you not present at the time, Mister…"

"Songoro, son of the Mountain and nephew to the great Gor Coron, brother." The large Goron, though quite small compared to the average Goron, held out a large rocky palm. Link took a firm hold and the two shook. Even for a small Goron, his grip was immense and Link held his pain back convincingly. Thirteen years had not prepared him for a friendly Goron handshake. Though, something was familiar about this particular Goron. Their hands parted and Songoro said, "At last, brother, we can shake hands without the confines of water to surround us."

Link laughed and said, "You're the one from the volcano rock! In the Zora throne room."

"I see that your memory has not faded with your green tunic, brother." said Songoro with a hint of embracement. "The passage of time has been well with you, brother Link."

"And you too, brother Songoro. Though time is always merciful for the Goron."

"Nevertheless, time cannot delay my gratitude. Not only or your actions to save our tribe, but for my personal well-being also."

Link flushed, as the thunderous voice of Songoro attracted more listeners. "There is no need for thanks, my friend."

"I have another gratitude, brother Link." pressed Songoro. "Your action in freeing me from the rocky prison permitted me to meet, who I am proud to introduce, my good friend, Lakea." Songoro stepped aside and permitted the slim aquarist form of a lovely Zora female with bright red eyes and a shy smile upon her lips.

The Zora woman approached Link and extended a delicate webbed hand, "Good afternoon, Hero Link. I have heard much about you, though I was only young when You were about your quest. In the name of my people, I offer my gratitude."

Link took a gentle hold of the Zora's hand and gave a light kiss upon her smooth fingers. "I am pleased to meet you, fair Lakea, but I must correct you that I am no longer a hero."

Lakea smiled and said, "There is no end to the Hero's title. You are not immune from such an honorific."

Link nodded, but was unconvinced. Lakea's brilliant red eyes shone brightly. Those eyes and the fire that emanated from them caught Link off guard. His heart sank as the face around Lakea's eyes became, for a brief moment, a long and beautiful visage. From around the eyes, there was a shallow cobalt tinge that radiated an exotic pair of lips and a thin, narrow chin. Link saw, from the sight of the Zora's eyes, that which sought himself. Oh, how he longed to the vision to be real.

"Are you alright, brother? You seem faint." Songoro's thunderous voice carried Link out of his brief, but wonderful dream.

Link realized that he was staring and a shy Lakea gazed wide-eyed back at the expressionless former hero. "I'm sorry," said Link, "I suddenly feel very strange. Forgive my silence, please? I hope that I did not offend."

" Nonsense, brother. You must have had a long day. You may rest at our domicile by the River." Songoro placed a rocky arm around the delicate Lakea, who still seemed a bit sky but nonetheless agreed. Link felt dizzy, but determined to reach Faron, even if he had to ride all night to Epona's dismay.

"Thank you for the offer, brother," began the former hero, "but I must decline."

Songoro's exuberance faded into disappointment, "But you are tired, brother. I must insist."

"Thank you, brother Songoro. but I must reach Faron Woods by morning." The Goron stood silently with his Zora companion before both began whispering among themselves.

Link grew annoyed with the delay was about to dismiss himself proper when, "Well, if it's to Faron you wish to go, then please allow Lakea and I to escort you. Meet us outside the West Gate." At that, the Goron and Zora were off while Link stood flabbergasted.

Telma walked up beside the bearded silent hero and said, "Those two: so young and helpful. Remind you of anyone?"

Link looked at the bar lady and smiled, "Perhaps. I'll try to find a way to lose them, maybe convince them that what I seek is too dangerous to accompany me.

" That," said Telma, "will only fuel their interest. You see, Songoro is quite lively for a Goron and Lakea, though timid at first, is rather outgoing and charming when you get to know her."

Link nodded, "Assuming they have the luxury of getting to know me." He then winked a blue eye in Telma's direction, "I'll see you later, beautiful."

" See you later, hun. And good luck!"

At that, Link walked serenely out the door and veered toward a westerly threshold. Telma watched the energetic younger man jog away and thought fondly of simpler times, when adversity drew people together. Maybe thought Telma, Link was facing another adversity.

"Hop on, brother!" Songoro's voice permeated the brisk late afternoon air. There the Goron stood next to a wooden cart laced with only a single pair of wheels and an enveloping cabin. Long handles reached out and were completed by a large harness by which Songoro stood. Link took a moment to admire the cart as the mighty Goron slipped into the leather harness. It became clear to Link that no beast would carry the burden, only the man of rock. Sitting timidly inside the well-cushioned interior of the rickshaw was the lovely Lakea gazing curiously out at the green-garbed former hero. The Zora gave a little smile and Link replied with his own. Songoro had finished tightening the laces of his harness when he called back to Link, "Are you climbing aboard, brother? The sun will begin setting soon."

Link studied the queer setup and admired the dignity that the mauve-eyed Songoro took in his task.

He then chuckled and said, "There will be no need, brother. I provide for my own." He reached at the chain tied around his neck and withdrew a horseshoe shaped pendant. The perplexed glances exchanged between the Zora and the Goron were priceless as Link drew the pendant closer to his lips and blew. The pitch of the rising and falling notes was high and heard among the collective ears of Hyrule. The only pair that mattered belonged to the aged mare that galloped happily toward her master in response to the tone. As Epona skidded to a halt, she reared to her full height and neighed with glee. Link took a firm hold of the horse's reigns and jumped upon the steed with enough time to catch the awed stares of the civilized creatures belonging to both rock and sea.

Link grinned broadly as he shouted, "I hope you can keep up, brother!" At that, the horseman yelped and in a cloud of excited dust, was off at full speed toward Faron. As he rode, Link heard the incoherent reply of Songoro, now many paces away.

After a moment, Link felt an unfamiliar rumble beneath his saddle. As time passed, the tremors grew until a cloud of kicked dirt and soot appeared along side the aged Epona and her rider. A circular rotating object the size of a large rolling boulder with a wooden cart in tow caught up and held pace. Link's eyes widened at the endurance of the Goron and nodded with approval. "How is this, Hero?" Lakea's finely finned head emerged from the enclosed rickshaw's window. Link could only maintain his nod was the Goron drawn cart began to gain a steady lead.

"C'mon, Epona. Let's show these kids who the true master of speed is." The she-horse neighed with determination and pounded the earth that carried a loud message. This message conveyed the notion that she was not going to be outclassed by a rolling stone or an overconfident fish. Epona was merciless to the dirt road beneath her. It bore the brunt of her fury as she pushed steadily into the lead ahead of the thunderous Goron.

Further, further, further still until the woods of Faron were reached by midnight.


	6. Arrive to Return

**Chapter Five: Arrive to Return**

**

* * *

**"In the Kingdom of Hyrule there is a great castle, and around it is Castle Town, a community far bigger than our little village… and far bigger than Hyrule is the rest of the world that the gods created. You should look upon it all with your own eyes."

-A Noble Swordsman to a Young Traveler

* * *

Ilia and her company had ridden into Hyrule's capital by mid afternoon. The three day's journey passed quickly, though all three travelers were fatigued and restless. It was Colin who led both his sister and the lady mayor of Ordona into the brass and wooden gates, leaving their steeds to the charge of Castle Town Valet. Ilia could see in both the younger siblings' eyes that the high walls and battlements of the town were indeed a sight to see. Even she herself took a moment to fully appreciate the sturdy stone walls and the well-laid cobblestone that functioned as the city's streets. The main arteries within the city circulated with its usual vigour. Crowds of merchants and workers drifted in and out of Central Fountain Square as they did so many years before. Colin, though he was in the lead, stood still amid the tumult. Never before had he and Uma seen the industrial and economic centre of the Hyrulean world. As the pair gazed about in wonder, Ilia took the lead and guided them through the streets that were forged into her memory. "This way, Colin, Uma. It's not far at all."

"Where exactly are we going, Il?" asked Colin.

Ilia turned her head to meet his wide blue eyes and said, "To a pub."

"A pub!" Colin was shocked and Uma bore a look a pleasant surprise. "Are you sure, Ilia?" asked Colin. "I'm not such a fan of ale myself."

"I don't mind ale," said Uma. Colin shot her a suspicious glance which Uma immediately regretted. "Oh?" pursued her older brother, "and how did you come about this fascination?" Uma's expression went sour and she said, pouting, "Well, maybe father and his friends enjoy a good drink once in a while and I just so happen to be along!"

"You stole some, didn't you?"

"No!" Uma flushed greatly this time. Ilia decided to end the trial.

"It doesn't matter right now, Colin. Though I think you should confess to your father, Uma. Theft, even of an unknowing father's drink, is bad judgement and could harm you later on in life."

"It was just one mug!" Uma attempted to defend her standing, but failed and held her head low. "I'm sorry, Colin." Her elder brother could not bare to begrudge his only baby sister and smiled warmly, "It's okay, Uma. I've actually done that before as well." Ilia rolled her eyes as the siblings became siblings once more, though under the strange circumstance of mutual petty theft. On they strode, toward Telma's Bar.

The pub was alive and circulating, as far as the group could hear below the stairwell. They would have reached the stairs, were it not for the chubby guard standing before them. His iron wares glinted reflections of the late afternoon sun. How many in your party, madame?" asked the guard in an automatic tone. Ilia turned to meet her lovely green eyes with the cold black slit that functioned as the guard's only vision. She said softly, curtly, "Myself and the two siblings behind me. We'll only be a minute." The guard was silent long enough for Uma to chime in,

"Hey, chubby! We are on important business and are meeting someone important within that pub, so if you want to keep your post, I suggest you let us by!" The guard sighed and mumbled a reply, but nevertheless stepped aside.

"So many rude people recently," grumbled the guard. "At least the little lady isn't armed."

Telma's bar was as Ilia had left it those many years ago. Telma herself stood behind the oak counter and handed the two pairs of frothy mugs to four eagerly awaiting Hylian workers. It was then that her brown eyes caught a glimpse of the newcomers standing at the door. "Ilia?" asked the fiery haired Hylian woman. "Is that my brave Ilia?" The entire congregation turned their heads to face the doorway as Telma bounded up and over the heads of her countered patrons and toward the fair-haired Ilia, arms wide open. The lady mayor opened her own arms and shouted,

"Telma!" Both women squeezed and laughed for the joy within them. Colin and Uma simply stared as Telma broke the embrace with Ilia and approached them.

"Master Colin, my how you've grown. Big and strong, as well as brave, from when I last saw you." Telma held out a hand for the shaking. Colin smiled and embraced the bat woman tightly. Telma accepted and said, "And still a caring-heated young man. I knew it." She gave Colin a large kiss on the cheek and then turned to Uma who smiled shyly, saying, "Hello, young lady."

"Hullo."

"We've met before, though you were only a week old. I must say that you have blossomed very well in these short years." Uma smiled and Telma responded with a hug and kiss on the freckled cheek. Ilia stood silently by as Telma looked back over to her, asking quite politely, "What brings you back to me, dear?" Ilia simply said,

"I'm looking for someone."

"Well," said Telma, "I may just be able to help." The group at down at an available table to converse.

"Auru?" asked Telma for clarification. "How do you know about him?" Ilia responded, "My husband told me."

"Husband! Dear why didn't I know about this!" Telma was obviously both shocked and hurt. Shocked for she had never heard of these events ever passing; hurt for the distance that had grown between her and the young maiden named Ilia. Ilia rested a soft hand upon Telma's saying, "It was a small wedding about ten years ago. His name is Aeadis and he is a wealthy merchant." Telma's hurt sank into recovering sadness, "A wealthy merchant, you say? I hope that you married him for the right reasons."

"Yes," said Ilia, "he is an excellent worker and provider and he is very loyal. I was lucky to find him when I did, though it took me awhile to realize how lucky I truly was." Telma allowed a smile and asked, "Any children?"

"Yes," replied Ilia with a proud smile, "twins." She reached into her travel bag and withdrew a folded piece of parchment and handed it to Telma. The larger woman took hold and unfurled the paper which bore an artist's very accurately detailed impression of the shaggy-haired Hector and the golden haired Gira as they were early this year. Telma's heart melted for the twins and she said, "May I please come visit some day? I simply must see the little darlings."

Yes, definitely," said Ilia, "now that the twins are older, I can finally have time to go on crazy brief adventures like this. But I must warn you, they can be quite a handful." Telma and Ilia chuckled as Colin and Uma exchanged glances of overt boredom.

"Now," said Telma, "You seek Auru?"

"Yes," replied Ilia. The bar lady asked, "May I ask why you seek him before I tell you? I apologize for the prudence, but I have to look out for my group."

"I understand, though I wish I knew who your group consisted of."

"Just a group of concerned citizens. I'll let you know some other time."

"Sounds good to me," said Ilia. "The reason is, to put it simply, about Link." Telma's face denoted some kind of pain at the mention of Link's name. She grew sombre and asked, "And how do you feel Auru could help you?"

"I want to know about Link's past and Aeadis told me that a man named Auru possessed great knowledge about Hyrule in general. More specifically, its military history." Telma scratched behind her own pointed ears, which reminded Ilia of Link's own predisposition to scratching his own ears. Telma concluded, "So, you want to know where Auru is so he can tell you about Hylian military history?"

"Yes."

"And how does this relate to Link?" asked Telma. Ilia looked desperate as she said, "I just need to know about his family history, where he came from. Maybe then I can settle my heart."

"This is about him leaving, isn't it?" Ilia was silent at the question. Colin looked angry and Uma, confused. "We're looking for Link, Ilia? Why didn't you tell me this before?" Ilia sighed, "Because you may not have come if I did tell you the specifics. But now you know."

"I may not be able to forgive him for leaving us suddenly," said Colin, "But I would have gone for you anyways." Ilia smiled and said, "Well, I hope that maybe we can all forgive him by the end of this trip." Telma bit her lip and said, "Faron. He's in Faron woods."

"Auru?" asked Ilia. Telma nodded. "He's on an expedition with another friend of mine. I'll mark their positions on your map, should you feel up to the task of reaching them." Ilia, Colin, and Uma frowned at their luck. Faron was the entire three days along the way back into Ordona. But still, there was something to work with. "Thank you, Telma." said Ilia as the group stood up to depart. Telma followed them to the door and asked, "Do you need supplies for the trip home?"

"Yes," said Ilia, "but we were planning on going into the market."

"Mind if I tag along. The marketeers know me well and offer me well negotiated prices." Ilia harkened to the idea and smiled, saying, "Yeah, that would be great, thank you Telma."

"Oh, a kitty!" Uma ran past Telma and toward the fluffy mass known as Riddle. Telma laughed, saying, "Well, hun, that one's mine, but can I interest you in another?" Telma walked around her counter and pulled up another pair of kittens, well, cats. One was pure white, save for the wisps of black on the ear tips, and bright blue eyes. The other resembled the latter in every detail, save that she was a female and the first was a male. "This one," said Telma, referring to the female, "is named Callie. The male is called Khoullie." Uma stroked each with a loving tenacity and said, "I want a girl cat. I wish I had Callie." Telma smiled and said,

"Then she is yours." Uma was silent for the moment before she shrieked with joy, nearly frightening the poor cats. Colin's little sister picked up the small white cat and placed her inside the kennel that Telma provided. Overjoyed, the young Uma carried the carriage outside and thought nothing of the cat supplies that Telma was about to hand her. Colin took the bag and thanked Telma kindly. Ilia took her red-haired friend by the hand and went off to market.

The prices for fresh produce and bread were moderate, but Telma haggled them down to the bare minimum. Three days worth of apples and citrus, as well as long-lasting breads and even dairy products. Ilia enjoyed Telma's company, as she bore the caring persona and strength of a mother, one that Ilia could barely remember having. The red-haired Hylian woman gave her easily won wares to a greatful Ilia and the group was off to the stables to fetch their steeds. The markets, however, were not to be denied as Uma graced the clothing shoppes with her presence while an unfortunate Colin followed suite. Even Ilia was taken by the vivid allure of the well-woven wares made for all women everywhere. The mere supply route gave way to wide-eyed exploration.

Night had fallen by the time the stables were reached. Telma suggested that the group spend the night and head off to Faron the next morning. Ilia felt the fatigue of a full afternoon's circuit and saw that both Colin and Uma, and even little Callie were fast asleep at one of Telma's tables, despite the hubbub about them upon their return to the tavern.

The next morning came as early as the last. Ilia, once more, was the first to rise and prepare herself. Uma and Telma followed suite. It was then that they realized that Colin was not in his bed. Ilia stepped outside and was met by both the brisk morning air and her young swordsman friend standing guard outside the door, his eyes fixated on the stairway. Evidently, Ilia was not the first to rise. Still, she bade him, "Good morning, Colin."

The blonde man smiled and yawned, "Morning already?" Ilia smiled back and said, "Were you standing here all night?"

"Yes," Colin replied, "I don't trust this place." Ilia approached her guard and placed a hand on his shoulder, "You've done well, Colin. And don't worry, we're headed to Faron right away and hopefully to home from there." As Ilia turned to walk away, Colin's voice followed her asking,

"Do you think it'll be worth it, Il? Finding Link, I mean." Ilia stopped and gave Colin a sidelong glance, "It's not Link we're looking for. It's more of a search for Link's past." Colin was silent for a moment, then said, "Can't you accept the fact that he didn't like us enough to stay?" It was then that Ilia fell silent. Eventually, however, she spoke again, saying,

"I don't know why he left when he did, but if I find out more about him, then I may understand him and eventually - hopefully - forgive him." Colin held his tongue, for he knew that any vociferations against Link, the object of Ilia's fixation, would only serve to harm her. Colin decided to be soft,

"I hope we can forgive him too." Ilia did not look at him when she said,

"Now that I am on a good trail, Colin, I may not need you anymore. Thank you for all you've done so far. You may take Uma home now if you would like."

"I'll never leave you, Il,"said Colin with total conviction. "I will protect you without cease until you have completed your search. Then, we can all head home together." Ilia turned to face Colin with warm tears flowing down her fair cheeks, then approached her guard friend to offer a tight embrace. Colin accepted and squeezed back.

Not ten minutes passed by before Ilia, Colin, and Uma rode into the southern horizon by way of Faron.


	7. The Skull Dancer

**Chapter Six: The Skull Dancer **

* * *

"Go now to the sacred place, beast… We yield passage to the Sacred Grove…"

-The Holy Sentinel to the Blessed Beast

* * *

Link halted Epona with a tug of the reigns. At last he had arrived at the edge of the mighty Faron Forest with the Goron-drawn rickshaw skidding to a stop behind him. Songoro unfurled his powerful mountainous body and lowered the cart's handles. "We are arrived, Lakea," called the Goron behind him. The delicate lady Zora's sleepy eyes emerged from behind the carriage's thin curtain to view the thick tree line before them. The only available route of access lay on the same road that connected with Ordon. Link pointed out the nearby entrance and rode silently toward it. Quickly, Songoro rolled his body and followed Link through the natural threshold.

The residence of the strange oil merchant, Coro, still remained, though it had succumbed to some wear. The same fire that heated the same cauldron of rancid soupy broth burned weakly. What appeared to be a large curly brown bush sitting atop a scrawny sapling of a man turned to face them. Coro still sat there, dutifully selling his flammable wares. The messy mass that was his afro had grown in volume and served as the home for multiple winged creatures that flew to an fro with little consideration for the man beneath them. It did not appear, however, as if Coro paid any heed, though that was not surprising in the least. Link dismounted his aging mare and approached the lazy salesman. He was studied with a half-focused eye. Then, Coro spoke, his tone thirteen years deeper, though expressing the same, unchanged level of lethargy. "Guy, It's been a while." Link was shocked that even Coro recognized him. "Hello, Coro," replied Link awkwardly, "it has been awhile."

"Hm," said the salesman as he studied the Goron and lady Zora stepping into the clearing. "Friends of yours?" Link shrugged and said, "New acquaintances. They are accompanying me on a little trip." Coro cocked his head to one side causing a shower of debris to rain down and flustered wings to take flight from his large hair. "A trip, eh?" asked he. "Does this mean that you will be needing some lanterns and oil?" Link saw a hopeful smile cross the young man's face. Link reached behind his belt and pulled out the very lantern that he purchased from Coro thirteen years prior. "Still the same one? Wow, you use your items well, guy. I'm impressed, really!"

"Thank you," said Link and motioned toward the entrance leading to Faron's Forest Temple, "we need to get to the Temple. Is the gate locked?" Coro replied, "Not anymore, guy. Since you been around all those years ago, the forest has fallen back into order. The Bokoblins packed up and left and even those poisonous Deku Babas have stopped growing. Something's different, but peaceful." Link smiled beneath his beard and said, "Thanks once more, Coro." The former hero reached into his pouch and tossed a red rupee onto Coro's lap. The skinny afro-wearing man took up the offering and smiled, "Hey, thanks man and good travels."

Link walked on and was followed by Songoro and Lakea, now on foot. The unusual pair waved happily toward the equally unusual man as they passed by. Coro gave a nervous grin toward the giant rocky Goron, but softened and waved at the lovely Lakea with much enthusiasm. The gate was wide open and the entrance to the cave unhindered. The former hero's lantern illumined the now-still cavern halls. The hook-tailed bats and toothy rats were no longer to be seen and the group passed through the rocky way unchallenged. Almost at once, the low ceiling gave way to a vast opening. The sudden dip of the land and presence of a haggard old dock connoted to an ancient lake that had long-since dried up. Though, thirteen years ago, the old lakebed was filled with another substance too noxious to pass through. Even the deadly purple mist was no longer present, which was a welcome relief to Link, who sighed. Songoro and Lakea gazed inquisitively at the former hero as he walked down into the open space. They followed aptly, though wearily on through the gloomy vastness. Link, however, quickly became weary himself and proceeded to nock his Hero's Bow, the twine of which he freshly replaced. He added tension to the bow, preparing to loose at the first sign of trouble, though none was made present. Songoro, feeling Link's unease, stomped no more, but tread softly, his powerful arms clenched. Lakea simply strode closer to the Goron, her wide crimson eyes ever-expanding.

Finally, the trio reached the edge of the shallow lakebed and rose up onto level ground. Another cave met them, though with little length in comparison to most caves. The light at the end of the tunnel illuminated a vast clearing and finally, around the bend, their destination. Lakea gasped with wonder as they approached the deep chasm separating them from the massive old tree that housed the entrance to the Forest Temple. An ancient water shoot served as the bridge between the passers-by and the old temple. As they neared, Link veered off the beaten path and instead climbed onto the natural wall the rose to block the unweary from the depths of the endless pit below.

Songoro and his Zora friend approached Link and asked, "Are we not to enter that old tree, brother? I see nothing beyond this wall."

Link beckoned the Goron rise with a flick of his fingers. Songoro shrugged and knelt down to allowed the delicate Lakea to step onto him and up beside the former hero. Then, the Goron himself leapt up next to them. Link pointed toward a series of natural platforms hanging among the mists and falling leaves. A series of wooden walking boards could be seen extended between some, but not all of these platforms. Link smiled at their presence as they denoted that Shad was still about, though the absence of certain planks turned the former hero's smile upside down. Wind and weather served to dismantle certain boards and send them below.

"You expect us to reach those flattened platforms, brother?" Link nodded. Songoro then said, "Well, I may be heavy, but I can leap far." He then took Lakea up onto a rocky shoulder and bade the Hylian man onto the other. However, an idea struck Link who was lamenting his lupine abilities.

Instead he drew Gale Boomerang, which hummed and spoke silently to its master saying, "Long have I waited the day or my reemergence. I am glad." Link smiled at his archaic wing-shaped weapon. He gripped tightly as he steadied his aim. With a curious Songoro and Lakea gazing on, Link hurled the Gale in the direction of the first platform rendered unreachable. The whirlwind that resulted lashed forward as Link readied his Ordon Sword. As the boomerang made its windy return, the former hero leapt into the chasm, spinning his sword around with a fierce tenacity. Though the Goron and his Zora friend gasped in fear, Songoro even stepping forward helplessly in an attempt to save the faded-green clad man from his fall. As Link fell spinning, the whirlwind caught its master and propelled him upward. The former hero bellowed aloud as he shot upward and onto the first previously attainable platform. Link panted happily as his feet touched down and he looked back at the awestruck pair above him. The route to the next platform was connected by a wooden walking plank, so Link crossed it plainly. He watched as Songoro aligned himself with the platform that he was standing upon and leapt forward. With all the subtlety of a landslide, the Goron landed upon the platform that, much to Link's surprise, held the weight of a rock man and his marine friend combined. Impressed, Link continued to use his newly discovered technique to reach the final stage of the hazardous route toward the ancient and sacred Grove. With a final spin, the boomerang carried its master onto solid ground and with a final leap, the Goron landed right beside his human cohort. Without a moment's pause, the trio pressed on into the hidden woods.

Link recalled his previous excursions into this most ancient of groves. Once, as a man and once as a blue-eyed beast. He walked cautiously through the sun-kissed clearing and expected a large stone door to stand in his way.

There was none. On pressed the cautious voyagers ever deeper into the old trees, past the aged boulders and springs. Through path and tunnel they crossed until, finally, the group halted behind Link's shielded back. "We are close now," said the Hylian man cautiously. "I remember this clearing."

"Heads up, brother!" shouted Songoro as a large mass, the size of a man descended quickly upon Link. With a mighty fist, the Goron let fly a quick hook which made contact with the falling object. It shattered against the rock man's clenched fist and showered its remains upon the group. They were splinters of wood and hide. Link saw a bright red button that suspiciously resembled an eye. Then an arm and finally a large round head, all fashioned from planks of manipulated wood. Songoro gazed suspiciously downward and took up the broken head that once held a pair of red button eyes. From the shattered body there lay fine strings, as if the wooden creature was a puppet of sorts. "Oh, no," sighed Link who quickly drew his blade and prepared his broad shield. "Not again." The Goron dropped the severed wooden head and scratched his own, saying, "I do not understand, brother. What trickery is this?"

"Malicious trickery, brother Goron," replied Link who's eyes darted back and forth in search of movement. "Stay close and protect Lakea. There are going to be plenty more where that came from." The Goron nodded and guided his fragile-looking Zora friend in between he and the former hero.

As Link foretold, two dozen wooden figures fell from to treetops surrounding the group of three. They hung in the air, guided by some mischievous force. Their long limbs flailed at random in an almost comic fashion. The hanging puppets greatly resembled the local primates that ran amok among the trees, though their piercing false eyes and painted jagged grins betrayed no friendliness.

As one, they descended and as one they struck. Link dodged a clawed swing and shattered the ape puppet with a single powerful thrust of the sword. Songoro took a hold of a pair and squeezed the sap out of their wooden skeletons, reducing the foes to sawdust. Aptly, the former hero cut through the charge and felled many of the non-living mannequins. More descended and attacked with increasing fury. All the while, Lakea stood and watched silently, seemingly helpless. There were so many of these creatures, she could barely count. Suddenly, one such being hung before her. It did not strike, as it only stared with cold unseeing eyes. As it hung dumb and vulnerable, a second creature descended from on high and landed squarely on the shoulders of the wooden puppet. This being was indeed living, as its vivid red eyes blinked curiously to Lakea's. This creature was short, childlike in appearance. It -he, it seemed - bore a wide skull-like grin; one that the female Zora could not interpret. It was simply a smile, neither malicious nor friendly. She felt a cold chill rise up her spine, yet this creature seemed harmless. He wore clothes fashioned from the forest: leaves and hide sewn together. A large pointed cap with a wide brim sat plainly upon the child-creature's darkly coloured head. In his right hand, he clutched a lit lantern while in the other, he carried an odd pipe that sported four open bells at the end. Around the child's neck was a leather strap that held a brand new compass as a pendant. His painted face tilted inquisitively to one side and Lakea felt a sudden grin traverse her lovely visage. Whatever he was, thought the lady Zora, he was actually kind of cute if not a bit unsettling. The little boy stood imperiously upon the puppet's shoulders and bent forward to study Lakea further. She wanted to approach the being, as she sensed no direct threat from him, though the other puppets remained to harass both Link and Songoro. Finally, the last offensive puppet was dashed to the ground and shattered by the Goron's mighty swing. Link panted and looked about only to see a single remaining puppet and...

"You!" shouted Link. Songoro saw the little boy upon the puppet's shoulders and took a cautionary step forward beside Lakea. Link sank his blade into the soft earth and unslung his recurve bow, fixing a shaft into the twine. Before the Hylian could draw the arrow, the little child took the horn to his lips and blew hard. A bladder that supported the bells inflated and a flat whiney tune emerged from all four. A serious of puppets fell down and began their attack. As Link loosed his barbed shaft toward the child, a single puppet fell and took the missile in the chest. The Hylian warrior grunted with anger and reached for another arrow from his quiver.

Before he could draw, Lakea held up her webbed hand and stopped Link in his deadly aim. "Wait, Link," she said, placing that hand in between the strange child and the barbs. The child tilted his head once more and giggled as he jumped down from the ape's shoulders.

_"Hee, hee, hee." _

Link bared his teeth at the little creature and said, "This is all a game to him, Lakea. Just let me run him through and we'll be on our way."

The lady Zora gaped at the man's lack of compassion and placed her free hand upon her feminine curves. "Is this how you treat children?" The little one giggled once more and placed dark hands upon his own waist in mock incredulity.

"That is no child!" spat Link, "He is a mischievous little demon. This is what he wants!"

Lakea was unconvinced and rolled her lovely crimson eyes as she turned to face the little being that was imitating her sternness, his broad grin never fading. "Well, hello there little one. What is your name?"

The child stood up straight and tipped his pointed chapeau, "No name for me, lady. What's yours?"

"I am Lakea of the Zora Domain. May I ask why you do not have a name?" The skull-grinned child danced around the lady Zora and studied her closely.

Curiously, he ran a dark finger along one of her fine fins saying, "You smell funny, lady. Like a fish out of water!" Link and Songoro exchanged glances of bemusement, though Link held a look of annoyance-induced murder. "And you!" The skull child danced over to Songoro from the bewildered Lakea. He then gave the Goron's rocky leg a poke with his long musical horn. "You are like a walking mountain. I hope you don't step on the nice fish lady."

The powerful man of stone could not help but unclench his giant fists and snort with mild amusement. Link still held his vigour. It was only inevitable that the skull child danced over to the former hero, having introduced himself to the others. "I remember you, wolf man," said the child as he stopped before Link's height. The Goron and the Zora stared at the Hylian with confusion marked upon their faces. Link decided to answer, "And I remember you as well, you little-"

"Link!" cautioned Lakea. The skull child giggled with mischief, "You've let your face get long, Wolfie. Can I pull it off?" Link grumbled and the child jumped up to grab a firm hold of Link's golden whiskers. With a blur of motion, it was instead the skull child that was caught by his dark little arm and held in the air. "I don't think so, little one," said Link. Though the boy's annoyance never ceased, neither did his childhood. Link could not help but wonder why the skull child remained...a child, even after thirteen years. Lakea was upset with what she saw as abuse from Link against so small a child. Mischievous as he was, the skull boy was still a child. She demanded the warrior to lower the struggling little creature. Her words fell on deaf pointed ears. Link, still immersed in thought eventually, yet slowly lowered the child who, once free, scurried over to Lakea's side and stuck out a green tongue. Link walked away and sat before a large stone face that they all stood before, waiting.

Songoro stayed and Lakea crouched low, speaking softly to the skull child, "I apologize, little one."

The boy's grin did not fade as he said, "He may be old now, but he still plays fun."

"Fun?" asked Lakea. "You think that all this is fun?"

"Yup!" said the child with a tone of excitement. Lakea asked, "Are you alone?"

"Yes," replied the boy, though that perpetual grin appeared false. Lakea pressed, "No parents?"

"Nope. Just me and the trees forever."

"How old are you?"

"I don't know. I don't feel old."

Lakea gazed in wonder at her new companion and noticed the compass dangling from the skull child's neck. She pointed to it remarking, "That's a nice compass."

The boy stepped back and held it tight, away from her, "Mine! The glassy-eyed man gave it to me a long time ago."

The Zora raised her hands and said, "Don't worry, I will not take it." Still, she wondered who the 'glassy-eyed man' was, so she asked. The child made loops with his thumb and forefingers and held them to his eyes.

Link glanced back and his own eyes widened at the skull child's action, but held his tongue. "Other men walk here all the time. Sometimes two, sometimes four, but the glassy-eyed man is always there. I like him, he talks funny."

Lakea smiled warmly at the child's exuberance when he said, "But none are fun like the wolf man!"

He pointed to Link sitting away from the group. "How do you know Link?" asked Lakea.

The skull child tilted his head and said, "He came here before. We played a game and he won, so I let him into the secret place. The glassy-eyed man gave me this toy and I let him go as well."

"Secret place? What secret place, little one?" The skull child stepped back and snapped his fingers. At once the giant stone wall behind them faded and revealed a sun-glazed courtyard awash with fallen structures and statues. The Goron and the lady Zora gawped at the marvelous sight. Link simply stood and walked cautiously into the unfurled area. Songoro took Lakea by the hand and guided her into the ancient ruin. As she walked, Lakea turned to face and thank the child but saw only dancing leaves carried by the breeze and heard nothing but the fading giggle of a lost child.

Link stepped into the clearing but halted. Without glancing in any direction, he drew his Ordon blade. Suddenly, a foreign length of steel emerged from the shadow. The blade was considerably longer than Link's as they made a sparking contact. The sheer power behind the blade was great, but Link threw it off and beat the blade away. The opposing sword's master emerged from the shadow. His clothing was thick, but his face was sagged and bearded. Pointed Hylian ears emerged from beneath greyed hair and deep brown eyes shone furiously as they fell upon blue-eyed Link. The former hero stepped back and raised his blade in defence but the older man did not swing any further.

He asked, "How long has it been, Link?" As he spoke, Auru took his great blade and hefted it unto his broad armoured shoulder. Link relaxed and smiled as he swung his blade up with a twirl and aptly slid the Ordon Sword into its vacant scabbard.

"Thirteen years," replied he. Both men approached each other and shook hands. Laughing, Auru claimed, "At first though, I failed to recognize you. I am more accustomed to your shorn face." Link rolled his eyes and smiled as he said, "I intended to travel unheeded, but it appears that the beard is not enough."

"I will not ask you for your reasons for disappearing, though I would care to be introduced to your friends," said the old Auru as the Zora and the Goron stepped wide-eyed into the ancient broken courtyard, though weary of the older human.

Link replied saying, "Of course. Auru, allow me to introduce you to Brother Songoro of Death Mountain. Songoro, meet Auru of Castle Hylia."

Auru stood straight and bowed his head respectfully, "Greetings, Man of Rock. Please pardon my... stellar entrance."

Songoro's stern face gave way to a light smile and said, "I am pleased to meet you, master swordsman. There is nothing to pardon, as my brother was left unharmed."

The two exchanged nods and Link turned to the fragile Lakea. "Auru, may I present Lady Lakea of the Zora's Domain."

Auru bowed low and took the Zora's hand whereupon he placed a tender, but swift kiss. The lady Zora smiled shyly and was flush.

The old Auru stood straight and turned to Link saying, "Let us walk. I assume you are here for Shad."

The ancient ruins were as Link remembered them, though Shad the archeologist was not entirely. After a baker's dozen worth of years, the young man had not gained much height, though his girth also remained unchanged. The largest difference was found in the man's hairline, or what remained of it. The traveler's blue eyes still shone with the same curiosity that inspired his archeological vocations. Link enjoyed the confusion that was wrought upon Shad's face as his group approached. The entire ruined area was sectioned off into grids, the ground around disturbed by previous digs.

As Link halted before the excavator, realization boiled into Shad's eyes. "Link?" he asked.

The former hero nodded and replied, "Shad. Nice place you've moved into here."

"Oh yes, I discovered it about the same time you dropped off the face of Hyrule." Link nodded again and Shad spoke on as he always did, "How did you and your -" Shad looked around Link's broad shoulder and saw the Goron and the Zora standing behind, silently with Auru, "-friends come about this place?"

"Intuition," replied Link with a smile. At that he introduced Shad to the unlikely pair just as he had done for Auru.

"So," asked Shad post-introduction, "I see that you managed to get past the Skull child without much hassle."

"I'll say," said Link, "it's not the first time him and I have met."

"He's not a bad kid when you get to know him," said Shad, "I gave him my father's old compass as a sign of goodwill, and though he wears it like a pendant, he seems to take good care of it."

"Did he make you run around beforehand?" asked Link.

Shad chuckled, "Oh yes. I guess it's his job to weed the unworthy from those who seek the secret place." Both men nodded silently in agreement as they watched Songoro in conversation with Auru while the lovely Lakea bathed in a nearby spring.

Link sensed the question on Shad's lips, but let the man ask anyway, "Where did you find them?"

"The Goron and the Zora?" asked Link who said, "I never meant to bring them along, but we met in Castle Town and they insisted to accompany me and escort me to Faron. I haven't been able to shake them since. Besides, they're good in a fight."

"Ah," was Shad's response, "and why did you want to come all the way back here, if you don't mind my asking?"

"I'm here for you, Shad. Word has it that you purchased my Sky Cannon about a decade ago and I need it." Link did not have to look at Shad to gauge his incredulity. The archeologist raised a shocked brown eyebrow and scoffed, "First of all, Your cannon? I do believe, Link, that it was we who discovered the object, but you somehow stole it and left it under the care of that awkward businessman."

Link shook his head, not wanting to argue said, "I hear it took you a month and thirty thousand rupees to finally get it."

"I was prepared to offer a million just to study it," said Shad admittedly. "That cannon means everything to me and my research, Link. You understand, right?"

"Yes, I do." nodded Link. "I know what it means to spend so much, anything, to reach that one goal. So I can't be angry with you."

Shad smiled and patted Link's back saying, "Tell you what. I will write a letter to my housekeeper, where the gun is being held. When you deliver it, you will be granted the permission of an honoured guest. You may use it as you see fit, so long as you keep in touch." Link was agape with the shocking generosity displayed by his balding friend, who then shook his hand.

There was a moment of silence before Link spoke, asking, "Have you ever tried it?"

Shad gave him a questionable look and said, "Um, no I haven't. Link, that thing is almost a thousand years old, I'm not going to climb into it. Why do you ask?"

Link, regretting the question said, "No reason. It's just... nothing. Stupid idea."

The balding man grew stern and said, "Link, promise me that you won't try it. It would be bad enough that the gun gets damaged, I don't need you killed as well."

Link smiled as he patted Shad on the shoulder and laughed. "No way, Shad. I'm no circus performer. Stupid question is all."

Then, Shad stood and said "I'm going to write that letter now. Feel free to stay the night. Your friends are welcome as well."

"Thank you, Shad. I'll go deliver the message."

As the faded-green-clad former hero rose and walked toward the group, he was stopped by Shad's voice calling, "Link, what happened to your sword?" Link reached behind him and drew the blade, showing it to the scholar, who studied it. "What ever happened to that ornate blade that once hung from your shoulders?"

The former hero swung the blade up and slid it back into its scabbard and pointed toward the stone doorway in between the large, helmed stone guardians. "The Blade of Evil's Bane," said Auru's grumbled voice. "Link, as the Hero of Fate, was called to wield the Master Sword and vanquish evil. Upon restoring peace, he was tasked with restoring the blade."

"I knew it!" said Shad. "That was why we couldn't pull it out in the first place."

Auru replied, "Only the blessed are capable."

Shad stepped closer to Link and asked, "Can we - I - ask you to free the sword once more, for research purposed of course."

Auru raised his hand in protest, but Link spoke first, "If you will write that letter and let me leave right now, I will do as you wish."

Auru did not speak against Link and simply walked away saying, "Suit yourselves."

There was a large tent where the Master's Blade once sat embedded into the ground, naked to both air and time. As Link approached, the winds howled as if to disagree with his presence. In one swift gust, the tent was upheaved and sent across the clearing as if a mighty Goron had cast it aside. There the Blade sat, imposingly. Link reached out and touched the warm pommel. He placed a strong grip on the length of the deep blue handle and squeezed. Songoro, Lakea and Shad stood behind and held their collective breaths. Link tugged and heaved, but the blade would not budge. As if to mock the former hero, its handle became moist and slippery allowing Link to stumble back and fall. The winds howled with laughter and then died. The three behind him remained silent, perplexed at Link's sudden and humiliating defeat.

"Only he who is needed may draw the Hero's Blade from its tomb."

Auru was grim in his approach, but correct as Shad lowered his head in disappointment. "Don't worry, Link. I'll draft up that letter for you anyway." But Link was already walking down the lonely hallway, past Auru and toward the Grove entrance.

The rain began to fall then and the winds continued to cackle.


	8. A Knight in Faron

**Chapter Seven: A Knight in Faron**

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"We sometimes encounter people, even perfect strangers, who begin to interest us at first sight, somehow suddenly, all at once, before a word has been spoken."

- The Philosopher to the World

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It was a downpour and Ilia struggled to keep her hooded cloak up. It had appeared so suddenly, the dark clouds followed by a sudden ravenous rain. Uma covered and clutched onto Callie's kennel with all of her might, despite the light gail. Colin rode ahead, his hood lowered and his golden locks drenched. Ilia worried about him, for as strong as the young man was, no warrior could resist the cold for long. Still, on he rode as a knight amide the sudden darkness. She gazed upon the sword handle that protruded from the cloak, strapped securely onto her friend's strong back. He reminded her of Link, the way he carried himself with such prudence, yet with such grace. Ilia could not imagine Colin as being resentful in any way toward her former hero. Link indeed was brave man and that courage had seeped into the young master that rode before her in the wretched rain. We all still love him, thought the lady major to herself. I can see that now, if anything.

It was then that the tall trees of Mighty Faron's woods were seen, through gloom and shadow. The travel was, at last, over for a time. The precipitation fell wildly still.

The natural threshold appeared ahead, unveiling the road into Ordona Province. The three riders strode wearily into the open gate guarded by a single house. The oil vender Coro, despite his commune with nature, was not out in the rain, but instead within the confines of his small stead. The warm glow from his darkened window was welcoming to Ilia, whose cloak was heavy and dripping. Colin stopped before the house and dismounted. Before Ilia could fathom the boy's intentions, he was knocking plainly on the door.

Ilia and Uma rode up and the lady mayor asked her male companion, "What are you doing, Colin? Leave the man in peace." Before Colin could voice, the wooden door creaked open and a brown frizzy bush squeezed through the opening provided. A round, stubbled face with thick cheeks and thin neck accompanied the afro below.

Coro eyed Colin suspiciously asking, "Can I help you, guy?" Upon his eyes falling onto the young man's sword handle being but a quick reach away, Coro quickly added, "Because I'll do the best I can."

"My lady and girl sister," began Colin, "require shelter for the night. I am prepared to compensate for your troubles if you would be so kind." Coro peered into the rain to see both Ilia and Uma's hooded selves.

"Colin..." said the tallest hooded figure. The voice was sweet, but the revelation of a lovely thin face, golden hair and green eyes was sweeter as Ilia lowered her hood. Her eyes were compassionate, though there was the element of sadness behind them. Uma too lowered her hood to reveal the soft blonde locks that resembled Colin's.

Coro was pleased to see freckles dotting her young visage. "Are you passing through for the first time?" asked the salesman. Uma then dismounted her horse and stood next to her brother,saying, "We can grace you with our story if you will let us in."

Coro, flushing, stepped aside and allowed the girl to pass. "My castle is your castle, guy and gals."

"Thank you, sir." said Colin gratefully. "No problem, guy. Anything for the ladies." Colin nodded and bade Ilia to come in. The lady mayor looked longingly toward Faron's woods before sighing and dismounting.

Uma was fascinated by the large mound of unkempt hair that sat upon Coro's head. Bird of all kinds fluttered about within the house to and from their homes within the salesman's afro. So too, was little Callie fascinated, but unsuccessful in her ventures to pounce the winged creatures. The young girl from Ordon spoke vividly about the city and her desire to return someday. She spoke of Callie and Telma and their lives in Ordon. Coro replied with wonder at how could have possibly missed three travelers, especially two young beautiful ladies, passing by his shoppe from Ordon. Colin sat in the corner, gazing out the window, his watchful eye shifting from Coro and Uma, to quiet Ilia sitting across the room. Ilia did not listen or contribute to the conversation, though she caught a solemn swear by Coro to never nap during business hours again. She chuckled inwardly at the salesman's charming, yet obvious attempts to gain attention from the young Uma. She felt Colin's eye upon her, though she pretended not to take notice. As soon as she felt his gaze, it lifted and the young warrior rose for the door.

"Where are you off to, guy?" asked Coro. Colin did not look back as he stepped out the door, closing it behind him.

"Colin?" called Uma behind him, but only the wood of the door absorbed the sound.

Ilia stood up to follow her friend saying, "I'll go talk to him. Stay here, Uma." At that, she too vanished into the rain.

Colin did not wear his cloak but instead let his light robes defend him against the cold downpour. His long golden hair hung downward and ran with water as the young warrior spun energetically, blade in hand. Exhaled grunts followed each quick thrust while snorts of effort complemented each jab. The boy's hand was steady and his mock strikes potent. In several short steps, Colin dashed, lunged, parried air, and plunged his sword into imaginary foes. He cut and wove his way in between falling droplets, slicing many as his blade passed through the wet curtain. By the time his exercise was complete, Colin stood alone, panting angrily. He stood straight and spun his finely-crafted sword around, then up and into its scabbard.

Colin's back was facing the silent Ilia, but still he spoke through the din of falling rain, "I'm not used to people watching me practice, Ilia. It throws my concentration off."

The lady mayor of Ordona stepped timidly forward saying, "What if you were fighting someone? Your foes will always watch you and you still expect to keep your concentration?"

"That's different, Ilia." said Colin. "If I have to fight blade for blade, I will focus on one enemy at a time and never divide that attention until I win."

"So that means that you should practice well without me interfering."

"Perhaps," replied Colin.

Ilia took another step forward and spokesoftly, saying, "Something's bothering you, Colin. What is it?"

The blonde warrior said nothing but walked up to his sheltered horse standing beneath a large tree with the others. "Nothing's bothering me, Il." replied he, his back still to her.

Ilia walked until she was behind her friend and placed a hand upon his broad shoulder. "Is it about Link?"

"Not entirely," he said, the tense feeling within his shoulder fading.

"Is it about me?" she asked.

Colin turned around and placed a light kiss upon Ilia's lips.

It was sudden and shocking, but before Ilia could react, Colin was walking away, leaving her alone.

Morning came as suddenly as the kiss, which still tugged at Ilia's subconscious mind. Coro had bade them good day and waved enthusiastically as Uma rode away smiling to him. Ilia pondered the kiss and its lack of definition. She had always suspected a crush as a child, but never for his entire young life! Perhaps his humiliation had robbed him of his speech for he did not so much as look in Ilia's direction. This was unnecessary turmoil on her already burdened mind. She worried still. She worried about Link, she worried about Ordon, she worried about Aeadis and most importantly, the twins. She missed her children and longed to return to them. At that, Ilia made up her mind. After finding Auru and sitting with him, she would return right away, despite conditions that could potentially arise. Nothing would halt her from being with her children babies once more.

The path through Faron was clear as Colin pressed silently forward, sword drawn and lantern lit. Regardless of how many time one may tread a familiar path, Colin refused to trust it, or anything for that matter. Thirteen years ago, not a single soul could safely venture through Faron's thick wood and dried lake unchallenged. It was then that Ilia decided to peruse her marked map. Auru's locus was on a spot that the lady mayor had never ventured before. She noted the deep cliffs that surrounded the area. At once, Ilia felt that the mere effort to find the old man would rob her of her swift rendezvous and her opportunity to see her children once more. She lowered her map and was shocked at what she saw: a tall and mountainous Goron towering from above.

Colin lowered his sharpened blade and sheathed it, for it would be useless against such a rough-skinned opponent. What appeared to be a kinetic mound of solid rock was indeed the imposing figure of a Goron. Though, this Goron was only a solitary one. A Zora, delicate and smooth, like the young Prince that she cared for so many years ago, stepped out from behind the man of rock. Colin took a sidelong glance at Ilia, then back at the curious-looking pair. The Goron was silent, his purple eyes transfixed upon the young warrior. The Zora gave an inquisitive look at Colin, then Ilia and Uma. "Um, hello," said Colin awkwardly. The hard features of the Goron melted like a molten flow of a docile volcano and a great smile spread across his face. "Greetings, human brother and welcome to the benevolent forest of Faron."

"Charmed," said Colin as he bowed low. "I am called Songoro of Death Mountain," said the Goron. "And this lovely creature is Lady Lakea of Zora." The feminine marine woman gave a curt bow, her crimson eyes fluttering. Colin bowed to her as well then said, "I am Colin and these two are my sister Uma and Lady Ilia-"

"-Of Ordona?" asked the female Zora. Ilia stepped forward and said, "I am her." The Zora smiled greatly and exclaimed, "You are one that aided our beloved King Ralis in his most desperate hour."  
Ralis, thought Ilia as she recalled the wounded emerald-eyed Zora prince that she, Telma and Link rescued from certain death. The Zora never forget, apparently. "We of Zora are indebted to you, Lady Ilia."

"I only do what is right, comrade Zora." said Ilia, extending her hand toward Lakea in friendship. The Zora took it gently and bowed her head. Still, Ilia begged the question, "May I ask what a Goron and Zora are doing so far from their respective domains?"

"We," thundered the friendly mountain, "are in search of our comrade. One named Link." Ilia froze at the name. Colin tensed and Uma appeared confused. Eventually, Ilia asked, "Is he in Faron?"

"He was," said a strange voice, a young voice. A man with spectacles, thinning hair and a thick backpack upon his shoulders appeared from behind the Goron. Letting his charge down, the man, sweating from effort, extended his hand. "I am Shad of Hylia; scholar, and a friend of Link." Ilia took the hand and shook lightly. She asked, "What was he doing here?"

"Searching for something. He left in quite a hurry. Do you know him?"

"Yes. My name is Ilia of Ordona. Now please, for where did he depart?" asked Ilia. Shad replied wearily, saying. "He left yesterday without warning to, I suspect, my home in northern Lanayru."

"Why there?" asked the lady mayor. Shad shrugged replying, "I'm not sure. He just needed something from there and was not willing to wait for my letter of approval to be complete. I doubt he will make much progress without it."

Ilia shook her head, "I'm confused." Shad was about to say something when a fourth body emerged from behind the mighty Goron: An old man with a white beard and long silver sword clung to his tall back. "We're unsure of his motives, but the group of us are on our way to retrieve him." Upon seeing the elderly man, Ilia recalled Telma's words to her.

She asked him, "Are you the one called Auru?"

The old man replied saying, "Yes. I am he. Are you the one called Ilia?"

Shad chimed in, "The girl who lost her memory? Ah yes, how could I forget that face?"

"It requires great skill to forget one so young and fair," said Auru smiling. Ilia returned the smile, but the look of pleasing within her green eyes prompted Auru to ask, "What service do you require of me, Lady Ilia?"

The lady mayor took a good studious glance at the dark silvery helm of Auru's long sword. "Perhaps we should sit?"

An old knight turned mentor to the greatest, most benign ruler ever to sit at the throne of Hyrule. Auru, as Ilia learned, was a man with a great history behind him, though his modesty masked such achievements. She asked first of Auru and his own past. This was unnecessary, though the depth of the old man's eyes prompted that curiosity. His wife and child were long dead. The result of a Bublin raid on his village many years ago. Though Auru led his people to victory, he could not prevent the savage trampling of his wife and young son as they fled though the fields from swift Boar Riders. Ilia was saddened by Auru's story, for since then, the man had not remarried, nor remained in a single area for long. The only time his displaced self was held was for several years as the tutor of the young Princess Zelda. From a young age, as Auru recalled, her wisdom was great, and he endowed the knowledge that would necessitate that wisdom. He taught her of the many creeds and cultures that thrived in the Green Lands that were Hyrule. They travelled far and wide while he taught her of the proud mountain dwellers known as the Goron. She learned of the sea-faring Zora and their nautical beliefs. With respect and dignity, Zelda learned all from Auru. Though she had many tutors, it was Auru that she preferred. They all offered a great measure: arithmetic, politics, ladyship, and the like. However, none offered the Princess that which Auru excelled at and that was swordplay. Under his tutelage, Zelda became a well-balanced fencer, swift and deadly but compassionate and gentle. The Throne could expect nothing less from a Knight of the Realm. Ilia was captured by the idea that old Auru was once a prestigious Knight of Hyrule. From a simple village leader to a fighting warrior in the service of the King. Auru took the oath and watched over his old village while guiding his protege into the graceful light. Having no family to provide for, Zelda was as a daughter to the old Auru.

Time passed and Zelda's training was complete. Auru continued to serve until his age saw him fit to retire from the Throne. From that moment on, Auru travelled in and out of Hyrule, to the neighboring nations and learning many things. That was until the darkness overwhelmed Hyrule and peace was shattered. That was when he met Link. That was when Auru smiled once more to the heavens since his life of solitude began. He stared off into the distant memory as he retold his story to a captivated Ilia.

By the time his own personal recount was complete, Auru asked, "Do you have children, Lady Ilia?"

Green-eyed Ilia responded with a cheerful smile, "Yes," she said, "Twins, in fact. A boy and a girl."

Auru appeared pleased and asked, "What are their names?"

Ilia handed her folded parchment that served as a family portrait and told the old man the names of both Hector and Gira.

"My son's name was Talarau," said a solemn Auru, "a strong, lovely lad with little care beyond the wishes of his mother."

Ilia choked, "I have been gone for nearly a week and I miss my children terribly. They are so close, I can almost hear them rising for breakfast, eagerly awaiting our nanny's schooling."

The two sat in silence as Auru slowly drew his long sword and placed it before them asking, "Why did you wish to know about this, my lady?"

Ilia tried to place her words. Instead she found, "Your sword. It belonged to your Knighthood?"

"Yes," said Auru, "it is the ceremonial blade that is issued only to the Knights of Hyrule. Why do you ask?"

"I've seen it before, though it belonged to another Knight that I met." Ilia's face was awash in memory and time.

Auru studied it well and asked, "How long ago, my dear?"

"Many years," replied she, "I would say over twenty."

Auru considered this and said, "Over twenty years ago, Zelda was but a young maiden Princess as I'm sure you were. As an instructor bound, I was also among the Knights of Hyrule. There were only ever thirty at one time. No more, no less. I knew every man, woman, Goron, and Zora that had pledged his or her sword to the service of the king, by name. I cannot recall of any that were posted within or near Ordon at the time." Ilia appeared to be let down, her green eyes lowering in sadness. Auru spoke once more, "But, we can find out. If my authority within the Castle still stands, we may soon be able to clarify."

Ilia looked up and met Auru's deep brown eyes. She said, "You are indeed kind, good Knight."

"Alas, I am no longer a Knight. I am but a servant to those who require service."

"Once a Knight, always a Knight. The good of people, nor their glories can ever be taken away from them, only time may fade them, though not entirely."

Auru paused at Ilia's truth and said, "You man be right, my lady. However, my stance is but to serve and serve I shall. We ride to Castle Town and toward the Castle therein. The group stood up and began walking toward the natural threshold that served as the gateway to the Fields of Hyrule.

However, Ilia ran before then and held up a firm hand. "It is but a three days' journey from here, my friends. I am of Ordona and I will welcome you into my home, for I long to see my children once more. Only then will I grant the service of Auru." The mighty Goron, standing beside Colin, Uma and Lakea tilted his head inquisitively as Ilia withdrew her firm, open palm.

"Please," said Ilia to the lot, "it will be brief and you may enjoy Ordonian hospitality until such time as I say my farewells to my beloved ones."

Auru called from behind the group, his great sword now secured to his back once more, "Then we shall, Lady Ilia. Lead to way to Ordona!"


	9. Faith and Will

**Chapter Eight: Faith and Will**

* * *

Begin with the end in mind.

- The Leader to the Follower

* * *

Link was always a swift rider. Even on the aging Epona, the journey that would have taken days was reduced to mere hours, with much thanks to the mare's potent legs. If his glorious horse did fail herself, Link was prepared to dash across the wind-swept fields and open grounds of the fertile province. Onward Epona pushed until she could push no more. Fortunately, this northerly travels were at last ended. Before the falling of the sun, the green-clad former hero was upon the walkway of what he perceived was Shad's familial manor. The wealthy scholar lived well, though he was rarely at home to enjoy the splendour. There was no talk of a wife or children from the archeologist's banters in Faron, but Link assumed that there was a keeper, otherwise there would have been no reason for a letter of approval. One that he could convince the keeper to let Link cross or, Goddesses help him, force his own entry. Either way, Link paid no heed to the necessity of a letter. As he approached the old oaken door frame, Link readied the archaic Claw-shot that hung awkwardly on the former hero's belt, for with the grappling device, he could hoist his burdened self into the ancient Sky Cannon. Link could almost feel the rushing breeze of mid-flight as his gauntleted wrist rapped rhythmically across the front doors. After a short while the door opened and a wrinkled old hand passed through the separation. A white head adorned with half-focused pale blue eyes came with the hand. Link recognized the old woman that revealed herself. She was the first to speak after thoroughly examining the faded-green-clad warrior. "The Messenger?" came a squeaky old voice.

"Impaz?" asked Link.

The old lady smiled and said, "Oh, my dear It has been too long!"

Thirteen years and the old woman still functioned, albeit at a much slower pace than before. Though the life in her voice shamed her age, which Link did not hazard to guess, her helpless demeanour only increased. Link wondered at the old woman's presence, though he was sure to co-relate her with Shad's fixation on the Sky Tribe. All Impaz could recall was a man in green that once fulfilled her destiny. The curious look from her light blue eyes suggested that she expected to fulfill his in payment. "Are you here for the Ooccaa Transport, young man?" asked she.

Link nodded, saying, "Shad-" but was interrupted by the old Impaz saying, "Oh, he granted you permission to officially test it for him? Good for the master, as I would never consider it myself, though young men such as yourselves may pull as many muscles as possible without consequence." Link paused and said slowly, "Yes. That is why I am here. I am going to test the gun just for him."

"Well, that's good," said the little Impaz, "he has held onto that cannon for nearly ten years and now is the time he has expressed a means to fire it instead of standing with it. Indeed he is a strange boy."

"I can agree with you there," quipped Link. Impaz nodded and sighed saying, "But, he is a very kind man, having spirited me away from the desolate loneliness that was my old village."

"He wanted to learn from you?"

"Yes, very much so. He was quite generous in offering me his home as my own, but I think it's too big for me to keep while he is away. I feel that I shall pass on before he will return. In some ways, my loneliness has followed me albeit to more lofty heights." Impaz trailed off, but then caught herself. "Please, Messenger, do come in. You look famished and fatigued." Without any approval from Shad, the elderly keeper hobbled aside and let a smiling Link pass through. The house was neat, save for large open room that appeared to be Shad's study. "'Impaz, my dear." imitated the older woman, "Should you feel the sudden urge to search about, please refrain from entering my study unattended by myself. Please do not be offended, as this rule applies to any and all visitors.'" She pointed Link in the direction of the large room and said, "I must ask the same of you, I'm afraid, dear." Link nodded, saying, "No problem. I will respect Shad's privacy." Curiosity, however, took a hold of Link as he gazed toward the notes and blueprints that hung from the walls. He turned to the old woman gazing upward at him, cautiously, if not admirably. Those half-focused eyes searched the depths of Link's soul. "My eyes may be failing me, Messenger, but I do not recall your face being so long." Link replied, "I roam and therefore neglect to shear my face." The old woman simply nodded and asked, "Are you as hungry as you look. dear?" At the second mention of hunger, Link realized it and responded, "Yes, I am quite low on energy."

"Then," chirped Impaz, "may I offer you a meal?" The notion was grand and Link accepted both the meal and the opportunity to peruse Shad's findings on the Ooccaa Tribe. As Impaz was away to prepare the kitchen, Link saw portraits of the Ooccaa Sky Cannon and its inner workings, as if Shad had dismantled and rebuilt the machine himself. Terror shot through Link as he hurried from the study. If Shad had disassembled the Gun, then he may have miss stepped the rebuilding procedure and fouled the original functions. The notion robbed Link of his appetite as he stormed from the foyer deeper into the house. A back door, or even a secret passage would have sufficed his search. Link needed to learn the present condition of his only means of conveyance toward the ancient floating City in the Sky. He opened door after door finding only empty rooms and hallways. Finally, upon reaching the center of the house, a set of doubled doors gave way to an expansive courtyard. The entire manor wrapped around the large clearing whereupon the ancient bipedal cannon squatted unused, but appearing in prime condition. Link walked around the inert Cannon, checking for any abnormalities since his last flight. Externally, the workings appeared nominal, but the true state of being rested within the innards of so aged a weapon. There was only one method to testing its effectiveness and the means to carry out that test hung on Link's belt. With a final release of breath, the former hero donned the Shot, aimed into the open chamber of the Sky Gun and released the grapple. In the short distance, the metal claw took a firm hold of the firing mechanism and Link was pulled into the dark cavity. Once inside, the chamber was sealed and the Cannon began to rumble and shake. An archaic bird-like leg stepped out and righted the massive Gun. A shifting motion denoted a directional change and the cannon found its bearings, guided by the ingenuity of Ooccaa design. Once locked into place, the charge began and Link bit his lip. A bead of sweat rolled down his brow and cheek as the charge reached maximum.

* * *

White gave way to mass. Mass gave way to symmetry. Symmetry ceded to detail and detail to form. Form became water, which gave way to Link. Despite the unpleasantries that came with instant dampness and cold rushing winds, the Ooccaa had created the ideal landing zone for so terrifying a journey. All this passed through Link's mind as his head emerged to the surface of the Landing Pool.

The Cannon worked after all, delivering the former hero back into the gold and ivory gates of the Ooccaa Citadel. The damage, as Link remembered it, was caused by the mighty dragon Argorok, was repaired and well gone. There was no dearth of complex design as Link rose from the pool. Now that he was here, he did not know where to go, who to go to, or how to speak the language that the Ooccaa chirped fluently. To his left was the shoppe that sold an array of supplies unneeded by the Ooccaa people, yet served Link greatly in his prior quest. Behind him stood an opposing Sky Cannon that projected its charges ground-ward, back into the depths of Lake Hylia.

Link walked to and stood before the massive ivory doors that beckoned him. So, he walked but was met with no resistance. There were no Ooccaa about, nor were there enemies to fight until the mighty winds rose. Link struggled against the gales, but to no avail. His bulk was blown aside and his weight sent crashing onto the brick below him. Then, when the winds had blown their fill, the former hero rose once more to challenge the length toward the gates. This time there were no winds to meet him, only silence. With powerful thrusts, Link pounded his gauntleted fists against the golden ivory doors until finally, they ceded and he entered. There, he met the Oocca: the miniscule golden-feathered humanoid aviaries fluttering about their business. All of them with their tiny saffron featureless eyes gazed upon the human. All were still in their appraisal of the Hylian, though none spoke...to him at least. There were hushed mumblings in a language that Link had yet to understand, but he was sure that the voices vociferated about him. A single golden feathered being stepped forward among the throng. The ridges above its eyes were taut, as was the flesh about his neck. While most other Ooccaa wore several flaps of wrinkled skin about their long necks, this particular being appeared young. Its head tilted to one side before flapping his large wings and flopping down before the former hero. "Hey, it's you!" shouted the little Sky Being. "Wow, it's great to see you again, Hero. You're awesome!"

Ooccoo Junior. The exuberant bird man was none other than the little companion that flew about with his mother during their time on hylia firma. The little flying head had sprouted an entire feathered body and more defined features, yet his young stood out among the crowd of otherwise indiscernible patrons. Link relaxed and smiled as he knelt down before the short bird-like humanoid. The corners of the Ooccaa's mouth curled upward in what Link defined as a smile and said, "Ooccoo Junior, how have you been?"

"Never greater, Link! Welcome to the Lofty City! Please allow me to show you around!" Link admired the young bird's enthusiasm, but the warrior felt that he had gotten to know the City quite well during his previous visit. Before the Ooccaa could scamper off, Link said, "I'm afraid that will not be necessary, my little friend. I must have a word with your leaders." Junior halted and bowed his head in disappointment as he said, "Aw, okay then. I shall inform the Eldest."

"Do they speak Hylian, Junior," asked the green-clad human. As Junior was stepping away, Link followed. Looking over his golden-feathered shoulder, the young Ooccaa said, "Of course the Eldest speak your tongue. They taught it to my mamma, who then taught it to me. Granddad taught her well, didn't he Link?"

"Your mamma?" began Link, "Where is you mother now, Junior?"

"Oh," replied the bird man, "She sits among the Eldest now. I'm sure she'd be happy to see you again, Traveller."

The chamber was vast and empty, save for the seven Ooccaa perched at its epicenter, leaving lowly Link to stare upward into the flowing light. Junior bade Link to stay put and then himself flew upward into the light, before which sat the Eldest of the Ooccaa. There was hushed, but rushed murmuring among the seven, but eventually Junior fluttered back down to an awaiting former hero. "Will they speak?" asked Link, who was immediately shushed by the young bird. A loud squawking voice, both shrill and hight emerged from the perches. "Link of Hylia." began the first. "You arrive unannounced at our Ivory gates with the urgent need to speak with us, the Eldest of the Ooccaa. Is this true?"

"It is," replied Link firmly. The voice continued, "What is the purpose of this urgency, Master Link?"

"The purpose is personal. I rode many days and nights and have put many miles behind me to speak with the wisest of you."

"They are we, young Adventurer." This was the aging, but friendly voice of Ooccoo, Junior's mother. "Now please, ask and we may proceed to help you in any way we can."

Another voice interrupted, saying, "We, however, cannot promise success in our services, o Hero of the Skies."

"I understand," replied Link. "The reason I come to you, the wisest of the Sky, is that I seek passage into the Twilight Realm."

There was chatter most excited from above. The Ooccaa were arguing amongst themselves in reaction to Link's wish. Finally, a coherent voice spoke, "Are you not aware of the complexity of your wish, Master Link."

"I am aware of my desire to return to Twilight. I am also aware the Mirror of Twilight is no more and I therefore request a solution from you on high. All I request is one of two possible answers."

"Please state the question and we may answer."

"If I pose, then I wish for a solution to the positive format of the answer. If there is a negative response, I will humbly leave you at peace and never return again." Silence. Link continued by asking his question, "Is there an alternate means of travel to the Realm of Shadows that is accessible to myself through your machinations?"

The Ooccaa Eldest talked among themselves before finally informing Link, "Yes. There is a method by which to proceed. However, much is left to be explained. We can help you, o Hero, but you must be prepared."

"Prepared for what?" asked Link. A door opened in the gloom and the Eldest descended into it. Ooccoo said as she flew, "Follow us, kind Hero, and we shall explain everything."

_Faith and Will_. That is what they called it. The remaining route to the Realm of Twilight was attainable only through the prestige of Faith an act of the Will. To have faith is to believe, to believe is to convict, to convict is to focus on that which your heart desires most. To have faith in one's goal ensures its spiritual fulfillment. The Act of Will is the final testament to that belief. The Act itself denotes the level of faith in one's journey. To accept Faith and perform Will was the only remaining link to the Realm that the former hero sought. The means came in the form of a machine. Complex technology beyond Link's understanding, or even all understanding. They explained the technology as a marriage between Mythos and Machine. A device with unprecedented power and potential. This machine, designed and built by the Ooccaa gave a feeling of unease within Link's stomach, yet the Sky Tribe's technology had never failed him before. It was a small chamber wired with a table and natural sunlight. The doorway into the chamber was domed with thick glass. The table itself held chains and braces that fit the form of an adult male Hylian.

There was, however, a catch to the completion of Link's journey. "You see," explained the Eldest, "The Faith must be unshakable and the desire strong. If that is simple to one warrior such as yourself, then the Act of Will is what requires the most concentration and determination. For you see, warrior: unbreakable faith is nothing without action in this case."

Link stared blankly at the vacant chamber and the table there-within and asked, "What must I do?"

The eldest replied, "Enter the chamber and remove your equipment. Lay upon the table and allow the technology to work. Once secure, we will ask you to summarize your goal in order to establish the perception of Faith."

Link complied and removed the burden of his sword, shield, gauntlets, bracers, tunic, mail, hat, and boots. He lay half-naked upon the automatic table, which secured his body. A voice leaked through the glass window asking,"What is the object of your Faith, Master Warrior?"

Link closed his eyes and said, "_Midna_."

The chamber went dark and a single mechanical arm descended from the chamber ceiling. A single syringe was clasped by rubber fingers as it became level with the former hero's neck. "Now it is time for the final inquisition, warrior." said the Eldest. "It is the Act of Will. The choice you make will be the needle's choice. Within the needle, there is only death."

"Death?" asked Link.

There was silence when Ooccoo spoke softly to the half-naked hero, "Yes, Link. The only spiritual path to any realm lies in the choice of death. Though the action of death must be reinforced by faith for the travel to be a success."

Link chuckled at the length he was about to go to. "Death is the answer, then."

"If that is your choice, Master Link, please understand that you might never return."

"Ooccoo, my dear," said Link, "There is so much justice in that syringe that the irony will strangle me itself."

"Then, before you choose to end your life, please restate your Faith and hold it well."

Link closed his eyes and thought of flowing red hair, and smooth, pale blue skin. He imagined running his finger through the warmth of that hair while becoming lost in the tangerine and crimson bliss that were Her eyes. Fine lips smiled at his presence. And wavering shadow embraced both he and his Twilight Princess. Yes, that is what Link thought of before the syringe sank into his veins.

"_Midna_," was all that he whispered as Link drew his final breath.


	10. A Lacerated Sky

**Chapter Nine: A Lacerated Sky**

* * *

_Do not pass by my epitaph, traveler.  
But having stopped, listen and learn, then go your way.  
There is no boat in Hades, no ferryman Charon,  
No caretaker Aiakos, no dog Cerberus.  
All we who are dead below  
Have become bones and ashes, but nothing else.  
I have spoken to you honestly, go on, traveler,  
Lest even while dead I seem loquacious to you._

-The Dead to the Weary_  
_

* * *

Ilia's vision slid back into focus. As the world spun back to her, she recognized the faces that spun with it. Colin and Uma stood above her, yelling incoherently. Ilia felt a pressure in her chest that almost made her scream, though she could not for the life of her. Shad and Auru stood away, though their eyes did not shift. The mighty Songoro held a frightened Lakea in his strong rocky arms as Colin bent low to place a hand upon the lady mayor's cheek.

Finally, Ilia was able to speak. With a loud gasp of air, she was fully awake and fully aware. She spoke, saying. "Link!" The group stood in silence around her. Ilia was on her back, which was stiff as a board until the feeling began to return. The pressure in her chest faded and was gone. With Colin and Auru's help, lovely Ilia was hoisted to her feet. She placed a weary hand upon her aching head and asked, "What happened?"

"You took quite a spill there, Lady Ilia," said the thunderous Songoro.

"You just collapsed," said Lakea with worry written all over her thin visage.

"Had us worried to death!" exclaimed Uma. Ilia tried to take a step forward, but stumbled. Colin rushed forward to help, but Ilia waved him off, for she was determined to proceed. "I feel like I just died," she finally said after a few cautionary paces.

"You did," said Auru. The group was stricken with grief as Auru continued, "Nearly upon the gates of Ordona and you fell back, cold as ice."

"Then what? How long was I out for?" asked Ilia. Shad chimed in, saying, "No more than a minute. How do you feel?"

"Fine now," replied the lady mayor.

"Can you make it the rest of the way?" asked Colin. Ilia nodded and began to step forward, finding her balance once more. Before long, the mystery surrounding Ilia's sudden collapse was left to future inquiry, as the green-eyed lady herself found new life in the familiar road leading toward the village. She could smell the warmth of the bread from Talo's mill and the cook fires burning within each house. The bleating of goats sounded a pleasant cacophony in Ilia's ears and served only to fuel her pace. Past the Spring and through the trail, Ilia neared the house that formerly belonged to Link...

Then it happened.

* * *

_Thunder._ The sound of thunder drummed heavily from the heavens. Yet, there was no sulking cloud in sight within the unbroken sapphire sky.

Thunder, thunder, thunder.

Louder and louder still did it become until the sky itself broke and bled. Like ink, the redness masked the ceiling of heaven. Like blood, did it stain the clouds and canopy above.  
Before long, the entire tapestry of eternal blue sank into a stormy sea of infernal red. Ilia and her group halted and gazed upward. She felt uneasy at the sight she bore witness to from afar.

Over the bloodstained horizon, black objects, like many fell beasts began to rise. At first they were small, but as they approached, their bulk grew until their size matched that of seafaring ships. Upon first glance, they were few. Then there were dozens, then hundreds until over several thousand vessels hung from the sky, drifting over top Sleepy Ordon. The denizens of the village below emerged from their houses to stare in unified awe at the sight from above. Low over the horizon, many more images appeared, only these masses bore great webbed wings and long, scaly necks.

_Dragons,_ thought Ilia in horror. There are Dragons in Hyrule. Hollow cries were bellowed from the distance. They were strong and guttural. At once, the people of Ordon broke and fled as the first of the fell beasts soared overhead, their razor sharp limbs trimming the treetops. The Dragons screeched and roared as they gained altitude. Upon their backs bore the shapes of riders. Tamers of Dragons, as it appeared joined the fleets up above in their black displays.

Suddenly, the network of floating ships, uniform in their dark appearance, let fall a vast array of fire from their many collective hulls... onto the village below.

Pure lances of heat and flame lashed violently against the hapless earth. With concussive force, entire houses were torn from their foundations and their remains burnt. The Black ships bore mercilessly down until nearly every scrap of green was rendered charred and dead.

Ilia stood silent and cold as the ships fired and the tamed Dragons dove down in entire droves, letting fiery breath engulf the innocence below.

Finally, after the last ship had closed its hull and the final Dragon had blown its fill, the Black Fleets ascended into the blood red clouds.

All that once was in Ordona Province's sleepy little village, was no more.

Only after the fires were spread, did the rains come to quench them. Against a crimson sky, the drops were as blood falling from a great laceration.

And all Ilia could do was stare helplessly into the devastation beyond.

She was a broken woman. Ilia's heart fell with each crashing stroke of flame that consumed her valley, her home.

She thought she could hear the voices of her little ones, calling to her, wishing for her to hold them in their fears.

Ilia's knees buckled and her soul faded, faded like the screams down below.

Only fire and ash could be seen or heard, dancing and cackling, replacing the song and dance that once was.

Through torture and agony of so slow a death, she would have given anything, anything, to cradle her children once more. To chastise Hector's exuberance, or to nurse Gira's shyness.

Those wishes crumbled like the roofs of so many ruined huts.

Yet, all Ilia could do was stare helplessly into the devastation beyond.

* * *

Author's Note: I added some new lines to this, to increase the depth of Ilia's reaction. I hope you're enjoying the updates thus far!

Regards,

-Justin.


	11. Twilight Falling

**Chapter Ten: Twilight Falling**

* * *

_"Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds"_

-A Fierce Deity

* * *

Link opened his eyes and the warm light of the realm washed them clean. The dark clouds of Twilight tumbled and slid across the perpetual sunset skies. It was upon firm rock that Link stood, suspended in eternal bliss.

He was naked. It was as if all of his belongings were left behind in the world of Light. It did not bother Link in the slightest. He no longer felt the need to let his weapons burden him. It was just Link alone along the edge. Nothing separated him from that ground and the unyielding depths below.

He would fall forever if he did.

Link turned around, as the feeling of the rock beneath his naked feet was that of a steady decline, like a natural ramp. When he completed his turn, a familiar sight befell him: The Palace. The Royal Citadel of Twilight.

He had made it. After thirteen long and fruitless years, Link had finally succeeded. The sight of the dark stonework and majestic architecture nearly brought the former hero to his knees.

But, there was one sight that did: the tall, lean curvature of a dream robed in a black veil. That vision, that angel of darkness was but a swirl of tinged blue flesh and shadowy garment. A vivid river of fire furled around her head and was contained by a stone bracelet. Sitting above lush, kissable lips and small pointed nose was a pair of the most beautiful eyes that Link had ever seen. They themselves were as sunsets: a painting of auburn, married to a golden tangerine bliss.

Those eyes focused on him and him alone as the angel approached. Link's knees finally gave way then. He fell before her, his Twilight Princess. She did not deviate and she did not take her hot, focused eyes off of the de-robed Hylian. Link's own eyes began to sting. They were wet with approaching tears, but he dared not turn his face away.

Not away from her. Not away from Midna.

She halted a mere foot away from the downed, wet-eyed warrior. She stared down and he gazed upward. Another figure appeared behind the Twilight Monarch. Much like the kin of this realm it was another pale Twili; a male, in fact. An exceptionally large man of dusk, though his broad chest and shoulders were clad in a thickly woven armour. Upon the black iron were traces and various lengths of cyan arabesques baring the Royal Seal of the Realm. Upon his thickly chinned visage was a well-groomed tuft of facial whiskers and deep red eyes. Regardless of his importance, the armoured shadow's presence stirred anger within the naked former hero. This intrusion was unforgivable, yet Link lacked the ability to vociferate. In a language that could not be understood by Hylian ears, the male uttered urgency. A musical melody responded in that same tongue from Midna's lips. Though he could not understand it, Link adored every syllable, every possible verb and every articulation. Just surely as the man arrived, so did he part. With a short, respectful bow, he turned and left, much to Link's pleasure. She did not watch the armoured knight depart, as her gaze never lifted from Link, which only served to paralyse him, to hinder his mind and body. Then, those luscious lips curled at the corners, however slightly. It was a warm smile, one that mirrored the comfort of her realm as he basked in it.

Suddenly, the ground beneath them began to shake, though Midna did not quiver with it. The oscillations became more and more violent until the foundations of the Twilight Palace before them began to splinter. Then, the colossal structure and is many substituents, like blackened glass, shattered. The citadel, in all of its might, broke and crumbled under a massive shock wave. Blue fire rose and engulfed whatever remained. One by one, the floating isles that made Midna's kingdom, began to drop away into the abyss below.  
A single golden shimmering tear ran down the regal painted visage of the Twilight Monarch. Her realm, her charge, dissolved around her, yet there was no panic.  
Confused, Link stood up upon his naked legs and looked pleadingly into the beautiful Twili's sunset eyes. He saw only pain. Pain behind the smile and pain behind the veil of calm.

Calmness shrouded her like the cloak she wore.

The blue fires expanded and consumed. The distant moaning of trapped Twili only thickened the golden river that was flowing from Midna's wonderful eyes. The fires eventually reached the lone pair and drew a tight ring. White light suddenly cascaded around the circumference of the fire, pure and bright. Midna slowly raised her chin and closed her eyes. With an exhale, Link went numb once more, his bare body tingling.

The light faded and the fires consumed all.

* * *

_Burn, burn, burn, World of Light.  
Fall, fall, fall, Accursed Twilight.  
Rise, rise, rise, Eternal Chaos.  
Mine Sword and Mine Rule be thine to behest.  
For I, simply, am._

_For Mine Blade, swift and nay dulled by time, nor wear,  
Does aptly cut the swath and veil of sweet darkness nigh.  
So readily, do I command the sky to bleed, the forests to fall.  
For things, simply, are._

_I am She.  
I am of Four.  
Of the Four Directions come.  
Of the Four Directions conquered._

_I play counter to Three,  
The lead to their Gold.  
Casting ignorant wisdom,  
Weakened strength,  
And pitiful courage,  
For the true hearts of the living are all of these things.  
I know all.  
I destroy all.  
I know no fear, and pity none.  
For I, simply, am.  
And things, simply, are._

_May the Mountains, Waters, and Earth bow to their Mistress._

* * *

Link's vision caught only a glimpse of the room he was in. Something warm was holding his hands. Another pair of human fingers clutched his own. Nails, long and sharp, did not harm his flesh. A dark figure was standing over him. Whoever it was, it brought comfort and even a smile to the former hero's whiskered face. It took a moment before he realized that he was on his back upon the flat table in the room that took his life.  
Somehow, he had returned. _Midna! Where is she? _Link nearly panicked. He was so close! The thought of loss coupled with those last chaotic moments in his brief stay within the Twilight were terrifying at best. He squeezed the fingers that were wrapped around his and the Hylian's vision came fully to.

There she was. His Twilight Princess, standing next to the spot where her hero had taken his own life in order to be with her, even if only to see her just once more. However, something was different. She was no longer a Princess.  
She was a Queen, quiet and radiant.

Even so, Midna was still smiling warmly, though the tears she shred from before still left their wet traces behind. Her hooded veil was away and a crown of red hair hung gracefully down. A dark hand found its way to the bushiness of Link's cheek and he nearly fell asleep with the heat it created within him. He turned his weary head to meet the wonderful crimson of Midna's sunset eyes. The regal monarch tilted her head slightly to one side and smiled mischievously, saying, "Hello, Link. Did you miss me?"

All the warrior could do was widen his sapphire eyes and grin happily. For the first time - truly, in a long time - Link felt a familiar pang of emotion called happiness. Finally, he spoke, "Thirteen years worth of words to speak and I am muted." Midna giggled and replied, "That's the second time you've been struck by my presence. Do I frighten you?" Link was silent again, but only for a moment.

"Immensely," said he. At that, they only stared at each other. A long gaze which, eventually, Midna was forced to break. Link could tell that she was in real pain, yet the confusion surrounding his return to her realm and their sudden departure begged the question, "What happened in there?"

Midna turned angrily toward him, her fangs bared, "That _wretch_ is what happened!" Link's heart was well-tuned to sudden strikes and lashes, but nothing could prepare him for such an aggravated response. He felt his blood run cold and thick, as if he was about to be forced to defend himself. She did frighten him after all.

Then he saw the tears run anew. Tears of anger, hate and total misery. Something had forced her out of her rightful place once more, only this time she retained her true self. It was at that moment that Link sat up, took his unbound hands and wrapped them around the tall dark mistress. Her tears were hot against his neck, but she did not sob. As quickly as Midna had growled her response, so did she appropriate her royal self. The Queen of Twilight then found herself returning the embrace given by her Hero of Light. Link considered asking the question again, but Midna spoke, her tears dried and vanquished, "She calls herself the Mistress of Four."

"A mistress?" asked Link, perplexed, "where from? And how?" Midna frowned and said, "An unholy being from an unholy place. She wields a mighty power, one that matches the power of your Golden Goddesses." Link's expression went sour and he said, "Matches them? Is that even possible?"

"You saw what happened to my home, Link. My throne, my people, my kingdom. All burned and fallen away with a twist of her will."  
So it was true. The Twilight as Link saw it, was no more. He remembered the crumbling citadel and the blue fires. Most horrific of all, was the memory of -  
"Screaming." whispered Midna. "I can still hear them calling to me. I can hear their voices fading into the fire." Link felt helpless. He wished to comfort his companion, though he was unsure how. She simply stood, her back to him. And so he stood, obediently behind her. "Is there anything I can do?" asked Link meekly. Midna turned around and smiled, saying, "You can help me find her, get to her. Then, when we do, I'll ask you for your sword which I will then use to sever her rule." The barred grin was not a friendly one. There was malice and there was angst. It is not often that the ruler of Twilight gets expelled twice from her own kingdom. Link wondered how she was able to survive while her people burned and fell away. _Did she even have a choice in the matter of life or death?_

Before Link could ask, the metallic door hissed open and the squat little Oocca known as Junior marched in. "Link, I hate to break up this reunion, but I have terrible news. I think you should follow me quickly."

"But what about Midna, I can't leave her here," replied Link.

Junior titled his head and said, "Queen Midna of the Twilight is formally a guest within these suspended may do as she pleases."

Link wondered how long he was unconscious for if Midna had time to work her charms on the Oocca. Even so, he shrugged and followed the golden-feathered being into the antechamber. Link glanced toward Midna who strode gracefully along side him, her long fiery hair flowing behind her.

* * *

The antechamber was no longer flooded with mercurial sunlight. Instead a dull red haze poured from the skylights. Oocca flew about noisily, panicked. Just as all things in the Twilight Realm went awry, The world of Light was also in turmoil. The Eldest of the Oocca were gathered around a brass table with a large orb at its centre. The sphere was lit and a film of images flooded from it like a vision. Projected upon the walls was a pulsating version of an all too familiar map. One of the eldest Oocca faced Link and asked, "You are familiar with this landscape, yes?"

Link nodded, saying, "Hyrule? Yes I am. Why?"

"What we are about to show you is upsetting."

"What is it?"

Link would live to regret that question. The images that flowed from the orb were of Hyrule in its varied entirety. From the Deserts to the Mountains, the skies were blood red with black vessels hanging ominously from them. All about were winged beasts breathing fire. Dragons racing over the desert and ships scouting the highest peaks of snow. To the West, the rivers of Zora ran low, reflecting the rash-coloured heavens above. Central Hyrule, the vivid city was empty, while the surrounding fields lay dead. The only commonality between all of these lands were that they were all being consumed by fire. The forests burned and the villages were razed. Countless dead lay about, stripped of both possession and flesh. It was a terrible sight indeed. The once green fields were black with ash, whatever survived was slick with blood. Finally, an image that nearly brought Link to his knees once more:

Ordona, the sleepy village to Hyrule's south, lay in ruins. Each hut was burned and flattened. Black smears across the ground evaded Link's attention before he realized that those individually carbonized masses bore the uncanny resemblance of people. Adults, children, villagers all.  
Link was speechless. Even the welcome placement of Midna's hand upon his shoulder failed to placate Link's grief. Now it was his turn to become angry. The happiest moment in his life was stained by the unruly actions of a greater power.

Link made a vow to drain it.

Calmly, deftly, the former hero turned a question over to the assembly of Oocca, "Who is this Mistress of Four and where do these enemies hail from?" It was old Ooccoo that answered, "She is not of these lands, Adventurer. It is unknown where she truly came from."

"The Mistress of Four," added another Eldest, "is said to have descended from the Gods themselves."

"She," said yet another, "possesses the gift of rhetoric. Her silver tongue can sway the hearts of the weak and even convinced the most stubborn of mountains to bow. For those too strong-willed to comply, she simply sets her hoards of blind followers upon them."

Midna spoke up, "They are not slaves, like my brethren to Zant's chains. They follower her willingly and kill indiscriminately. They accept her and they are forever hers." Link studied the holographic images that flowed and considered the black fleets hanging above the land. He asked, "Where could this Mistress of Four have come from prior to Hyrule?" He looked from Elder to Elder until little Ooccoo found his sight. She said, "focus on the map and I shall tell you."

The representation of Hyrule shrank until its view was beyond that of the cradling mountains. There were indeed more lands outside Hyrule, lush and beautiful. "To the North," began Ooccoo, "is a land that is ripe with change and industry. Their technology extends beyond even ours. Ships that once floated on the sea began to hang in the sky, much like our cities, though these ships have been converted into machines or war. Many machines of war." Link gazed, struck not only be the raw power of these black ships, but by their sheer number that blotted the sun. From their hulls, Link witnessed falling lines of concentrated fire that instantly vaporized anything it its path. Truly something to behold.

"Next," said Ooccoo, "is a land so wild and untamed that its people are governed by nature itself. And nature is a savage mistress." The map shifted from North to South, beyond sleepy Ordon. Lush jungles and furious rivers painted the land bright shades of green and blue. Pairs of webbed wings emerged from the canopies. With those wings came thick scaled bodies. At the anterior end was a long neck supporting a narrow head that bristled with pointed horns and jagged teeth. A large dead animal hung limp from closed jaws while Link concluded that the source of offensive winged beasts was found. Upon their backs were savagely-clothed riders, much like humans in appearance. "Survival is the key to ruling in this paradise," said Ooccoo. "Though the cost may very well be one's humanity."

"To the East is a nation that once prided itself on peace." A mountainous, foggy landscape masked the territory beyond the Desert. "Here," continued Ooccoo, "lives a tribe of docile magic weavers. Though they do not seek war, their powers serve only to increase the quality of life. It is for that reason that this tribe is considered the longest living band of them all." _To live so long would be a blessing as long as that long life was worth living,_ thought Link as he took a glance back toward a quiet observant Midna. _A least, now it would be._

The land faded away as the view was brought to the West, past the Zora Domain. "This land is one of moderate balance, much like our Hyrule," orated Ooccoo. "It is a relatively smaller realm, though it's cultures are advanced. Technology is favoured more so than magic, but the elements are still visible. Great tame creatures with enormous strength walk about when they are prompted to." Link gazed at the place before him. Something was familiar about the lay of the land, though he could not point out why. The map faded and an overall globe was formed in the air.

Ooccoo strutted across the table and pointed with a golden wing, "Once again: to the North is the land of gears and bearings. This land is called _The Republic of Aerij._ Its people are hardy and strong-willed, though their capitulation was quickly wrought with the Mistress controlling the political elite. A descent from the top proved to be a quick victory for her."

"The lush lands that are filled with wild beasts is a place known as _Fell._ Though its people are the hardiest of all, they recognize only raw power and leadership. To topple a warring chief is to rule the tribe. Of the five major tribes, the Mistress of Four personally rules them all. They were the first to submit to her rule, followed by Aerij."

"The third and most difficult," continued Ooccoo, "was the magical tribe of the Leer in the land of _Leeror._ Their minds were the strongest of all, but the Mistress of Four abandoned her rhetoric and called upon her ships to convince the tribal leaders otherwise."

"This final land beyond the Zora rests by the Great Sea. She is the sister world of Hyrule. The industrious, yet cultivated _Termina._" Chatter along the Eldest heightened as Ooccoo pressed onward. "This beautiful land was the most recent addition to the unholy axis created by the Mistress of Four. With her name and her legacy complete, she seeks to enslave Hyrule."

"Those that defy her...." Midna's anger boiled as her brow furrowed. Link understood completely and nodded. Still, he asked, "But why? What is her motive? Who is she really?" Link nearly demanded to know. The Oocca simply shook their creative little head and frowned. None of them knew. "Beyond the simple desire of war, we have no idea as to what her motive it. I'm sorry Link." said the small creature. "The absence of Queen Zelda makes matters worse. We have long since lost sight of her after her journey into the lands beyond." Link pondered as well what Zelda had planned, but if she returned, she would most likely discover a burnt shell of what these lands used to be.

Link made his decision on the spot With a frown upon his lips and scorn in his heart, Link made a personal declaration of war against this faceless evil. As a sign of such conviction, the former hero knelt down, drew his Ordonian blade and held it by the razor edge, its pommel facing Midna. With a bow of his unkempt head, Link spoke, "I will assist you in any way I can, my Queen. My sword is yours, as well as my life. Your war is now mine." Midna held a stern look upon her face.

Gently, she pushed the pommel down and bade Link to rise, saying, "I can't ask any more of you, Link. You've done enough for me already. I owe you." Once again, Link was lost for words, but none were necessary.

However, little Ooccoo Junior approached and said, "Hey, Link. We may have found survivors in Ordon. We detect movement." At once, the green-clad warrior rose and stored his weapon to gaze upon the illuminated walls. The image focused on a small group of people charging down into the valley where Ordon once stood. The flames and smoke were thick, but Link recognized the mobile figures. There were several adult men and few women. A large tanned boulder that could only be a Goron and a sleek pale woman of the sea. Songoro and Lakea, thought Link. The men were more difficult to identify, despite his recognition, but Link knew that they were Auru and Shad. However, there more. A blonde man and woman. Two blonde women in fact. The man's long stride and drawn blade resembled that of old Rusl. _Colin_, thought Link. _My, he's grown. If that was the young master, then the woman next to him was his sister, Uma_. Link recalled the infant upon his return to Ordon those many years ago. That left the other woman. She was ahead of the group, shouting. Her green eyes full of worry. That could only be Ilia. The image then pulled away as more figured entered the valley. Only these figures were many. Their flesh was dark, clad with various irons and their limbs armed with various lengths of weaponry. They surrounded the valley and slowly began a detailed march around the small group of Hyruleans.

Fear overtook Link and he turned to the Oocca Eldest and shouted, "I need a cannon to send me to Ordon. Now!"

"I'm sorry, Adventurer," began Ooccoo, "but our cannons cannot aim so far as Ordon, Your closest landing would have been the lake in Faron, which has long-since dried. We cannot send you any closer than Lake Hylia." Link shook his head and pounded his gauntleted fists down upon the brass table, which shook.

Once again, he felt the cooling sensation of Midna's palm on his tense shoulder. "Link," she said, "are you forgetting who's company you are in?"

Link looked up and toward his Twilight Queen who held the ability to traverse time and space. Without another moment passed, Midna held up a single finger and cast an invisible ink across the floor, which formed into a black spiralling surface that hummed and glowed a pale blue along its edges. The regal Queen stepped onto the surface and held out her long, perfect fingers. Link smiled and took a hold.

With a final nod toward the Oocca, his entire body dematerialized and the molecules were sent skyward and across the bloodied heavens.

* * *

Author's Note: I spaced everything out a bit more and added the poem in the middle to act as a more fitting introduction to the villain, Mistress. I hope you liked it!


	12. Contact

**Chapter Eleven: Contact**

* * *

"The clock ticks on  
While my soul bleeds slowly  
And the aching of my empty arms  
Cries softly, like a child in the night  
I examine the hole in my Self  
That remains where once a baby smiled at me..."

- A Mother, lost.

* * *

A mother's search for her children is furious, desperate and unrelenting.

This was Ilia at the scene where the most horrible event of her short life had taken place. For any mother, such an event could only mean the loss of her children. Nearly every square meter of ash and soot that once stood dominantly as the Mayor's Hut was scraped by her bare hands now hot and sullied. Colin went to her, despite her fanatical vocation. The others stood close by, prepared to lunge forth in case Ilia decided to dive into the active flames. Colin decided that it was best to keep the lady mayor away from the crisp remains of what was once hers. He placed a strong hand upon the weeping Ilia's shoulder and knelt next to her.

The young mother tilted her golden head to rest mournfully upon his shoulder, hot tears dropping like rain. Deep were her sobs. For the longest moments, Ilia's broken-hearted cries were the only vocalizations that anyone in the disdained company could utter.

Once again Lakea was cradled in the rocky shields of mighty Songoro's arms fighting tears of her own. The usually cheerful mask of the Goron was inverted and angry, however, his purple eyes denoted nothing but helplessness. Auru stood outside the huddle, his drawn long sword in hand and his dark eyes darting wearily about. Shad in particular looked distressed. He simply sat next to the old Knight, watching the despair. The young Uma had followed her older brother and joined in his comforting of the grieved Ilia, whose weeps had died into forsaken whimpers. Once again, those whimpers were the only sounds heard amid the cackling flames and disturbed water.

Disturbed water? Ilia glanced at Colin, who stood, pulled his sword free and turned to Auru. The old man stared coldly down the direction of the stream leading into the nearby Ordonian lake. There was a sound of sloshing and complaints of effort. A large dark figure trudged upward against the mild flow of the stream, its shape made monstrous by the redness of the sky above. Unsure, both swordsmen made ready their positions while the Goron covered the rear. Ilia simply stayed where she sat. No amount of fear could have moved her from the site where her young family once lived. She longed for the little hands that touched and the little mouths that kissed. She also longed for the strength of her husband. She found some comfort in that knowledge that Aeadis was with them. He was there to hold them before they died. He was there to - "Mommy!" -

Hear their voices. The shadow that had swords drawn against it dissolved into three individual entities: a tall one sided by a pair of miniatures. The little shadows burst forth and were their darkness was lifted to the eyes of the group. From the haze, twins Hector and Gira revealed themselves. As the pattering little feet approached Ilia, the lady mayor's green eyes widened with disbelief. Reflexively, she opened her arms wide and accepted the shivering embrace of her two children. Tears, warm and thankful flowed freely from her eyes as her twins squeezed with all their might. They were cold and damp, but alive. "Oh, my babies!" Ilia delivered pecks to every square inch of their wet little faces. She stopped to breath and wondered, "But how?" She looked beyond Hector's long brown hair and saw a tall lean figure among the shadows. "Aeadis?" she called. "Is that you?"

"As much as I would like to be," replied a familiar voice, "I'll have to disappoint you, Ilia."

It was Talo, the mill owner's son. The red bandana he wore a child was still used to gather the perspiration from his brow. In the time since Link's departure, young Talo had matured from a rambunctious trouble-maker to the tall, mild-mannered successor to his father's waterwheel-powered mill. Talo's younger brother Malo had left for Castle Town in pursuit of furthering his general retail market, as Ilia recalled in those few seconds. It was difficult to picture those two without one another. Wet, shivering, and wide-eyed, Talo's shoulders relaxed and he fell, blood flowing from a fresh wound in his arm. Colin shouted a response and ran toward his friend. Using the red handkerchief that held Talo's hair, the blonde-hairs swordsman constricted the the crimson flow and the river ceased shortly thereafter. Talo was pale, not only from blood loss, but from sheer terror. The children were also whitened, but the warmth of their mother saw the flush return of colour to their small cheeks. They gathered around the fallen mill-owner and were taken aback. Steadily, the brown-haired man breathed out the events he had witnessed and the actions he took. First of all, he asked, "Where are the tykes?" Ilia smiled and replied, "Right here with me. Thank you Talo, for watching over them." She still wondered about Aeadis. Was he dead? Talo smiled back, relieved. He then said, "I saw Aeadis before the fleets and the fire." This caught Ilia's interest. She listened as he spoke on, "He was the first to point upward and the last one that I saw alive."

"Is he still alive?" asked Ilia half-heartedly expecting the answer to be a negative one. "I don't know," replied Talo. "I was standing next to him when he quickly turned to me and told me to follow him."

"Then what?" Ilia's eyes were ablaze. Talo swallowed as he continued, "We entered the hut and he woke the twins, gathering them up in his arms. He asked me to take Hector and to follow him to the lake."

"Did he know what was going to happen?"

"Seems like it, because that mysterious floating armada from the skies began unleashing their hell when we reached the lake." The memory was beginning to upset her again. Talo ceased talking.

"Please, Talo," urged Ilia, "Please tell me what Aeadis did next."

"Your husband held the children tight, telling them that I was going to look after them. And as abrupt as it was, I was willing to undertake the task." Ilia felt tears flowing. Still, Talo pressed, despite his discomfort, "Then, with a final embrace, he left. To where, I have no clue, but before he took off, he told me to enter the lake no matter what happened."

"So you stayed in the lake this whole time." Songoro thundered in. "Yes," replied Talo, "I put my body between the twins and the falling shrapnel. That was how I got this wound." The young man hinted toward the gash upon his arm. He tired to stand, but was weak. A rocky hand from Songoro aided in Talo's rise. He was pale and his lips were dark. Both the water and the shock from such a wound had taken their tolls. Still, Ilia embraced him, delivering a kiss upon both white cheeks. Immediately, they became flush and Talo smiled. With a glance about, the mill-owner's son asked, "Did you find anyone else?"

"Only what remains," admitted Colin sadly. The blonde-haired swordsman sought his sister, but Uma he could not find. Then a memory of his father struck home and Colin turned in the hazy direction of his house. Ilia watched as Colin walked away, more sadness filling her. In the distance, she could hear the gentle weeping of a young girl who had just discovered the blackened skeletons of her parents. Ilia was upset not at the absence of her husband, but at the absence of any indication whether he was alive or dead. It would haunt her and she knew it. A part of her longed to be Uma and Colin, huddled in their sorrow before their burnt home. At least the foresight of acceptance and progression were available to them. For as macabre as that sounded, it was a merciful reality that Ilia knew she would most likely never have: the knowledge that the one you love is actually dead.

Hope was such a burden in these dark times.

* * *

Colin found Uma on her knees before the House of Rusl. The front portion of their home was burned away with duty embers feasting on that which remained. There was an ominous glow left by the pulsing wooden beams, consumed and spent. The young girl wept silently as she bowed her head down. Colin fought the urge to weep with her, as he did not trust the gloom around them. Though his sword was sheathed, Colin felt that to only way to atone to for his grief was to occupy himself by keeping his little sister safe. Still, he advanced and placed a gloved hand upon her shoulder. She wept louder still, but with more security. Colin could not see what was left of their mother and father, but he knew they died together, never to be separated for long.

Something caught his eye: a glint from within the blackened grass. Reaching down, Colin's grip found the firm handle of a small fishing rod. The string was taut and the reel unharmed. Only the handle was burnt slightly. The glinting hook was in proper shape. It was the rod that he and his father Rusl had made. A fine-quality work that necessitated many hours of fine tuning. Absently, the young swordsman rolled the rod handle in between his fingers while his sister stood up and walked towards him. In the most vulnerable of voices, Uma asked, "What do we do now, big brother?" Colin handed the fishing tool to his little sister and said, "We survive and protect our friends. It's what mother and father would have wanted."

"I'm frightened," was all Uma could mutter as she wrapped her lean arms around her brother's chest and delivered the tightest of sisterly embraces, the fishing rod clasped within her tiny hand. Colin squeezed Uma back and said, "Don't worry. Nothing will happen to you. Not as long as I am around." Uma smiled with tear in her eyes. Another glint caught Colin's eyes as he broke the embrace to reach for it. Beneath the ashes was a metal handle. Attached to that handle was a long flat and sharp edged blade. Colin froze. It was his father's sword, unbroken and warm beneath the layer of ash. In wonder, the swordsman took up the sword and held tightly onto it. Colin made a promise to use it well. A final promise to his parents' memory.

Then, something made both Colin and his sister gaze upward to the high ridge that surrounded their house. Several figures, black and tall lurked forward from on high. Their faces were masked and their eyes glowed a deep amber. A pair of clawed limbs on each figure held long, sharp cleaving weapons, broad and thick. Enough malice was born into both weapon and black wielder to sever a man in two. The eyes from behind black masks served only to strengthen the theory. Uma stepped back as the ridge line became populated with many of these fearsome-looking beasts. Or were they men? More arrived until the entire dominating tree line that surrounded the valley, was populated with amber pairs of eyes.

It was then that Colin lost his trust in the haze and pulled his blade free of its resting place. "Run, Uma!" he called. "Run and I'll be right behind you. Warn the others!" The beast men leapt down one by one in pursuit only to meet Colin's challenge. He swung for the first beastman's snarling head.

* * *

Ilia saw Talo leaning against a boulder in a futile attempt to contain his misery. He stood before the charred existence of what was once his. The old man that was his father lay across the blackened mass that was his mother.

Even in death, the man defends the woman with his body.

Only the children remain, at least one of them.

Then, Talo's head perked up. "Malo!" he shouted. "Malo!" said the older brother once more until he grabbed a gentle hold of Ilia's blouse and explained, "We need to get to Castle Town and find my little brother Malo!" All this he urged with reddened eyes and trembling lips. Before Ilia could answer, she had to consider their situation: wounded with children with no food or supplies or enough horses for a three-days' journey. They needed a plan.

Colin and Uma's sudden arrival caught their attention. Uma's blue eyes were wide and frightened while Colin's were fierce and ready. "We're surrounded. Prepare to fight." Ilia saw that Colin's sword was drawn and it ran black with a thick liquid that smelled both wild and pungent. Blood.

Auru stood at the ready and Songoro flexed his sedentary muscles and pounded his rock fists together. Colin grabbed a hold of Uma and told her, "Get Ilia and her children into a huddle and join them. The fighters will form a defensive ring around you." Ilia heard this and held her children close. Uma joined them and beckoned Lakea to join them. The Zora refused and smiled as she joined the ring of defenders unarmed. Talo joined the ranks and was surprised when Colin handed him his sword. "Remember our sparring, Talo?" asked Colin. Talo smiled weakly, though his strength returned. Then there was Shad, unarmed and helpless. Colin ushered him to the women. Uma shouted to her brother, "I want to fight too!"

"No," was his prompt response. There was no time to argue as the hoard drew near, their growls and cries for blood for all to hear.

The battle was then, met. Tall and black were their armoured bodies. Masked and expressionless were their faces. Evil were their eyes. Spear and sword and axe and claw charged forth. Sword and rock and fist countered. Colin wove through the lines with ease, cleaving and cutting. Talo, despite his dearth of strength, parried and impaled with expert timing. Old Auru heaved his heavy long sword and derailed a pair of spears that thrust in his direction. With great downward swipe, the spearheads were severed from the body of the shafts. Not long afterward, the heads of the black spearmen were separated from their armoured shoulders by Auru's blade. The mighty Goron simply chortled as spear heads and axe beards where broken against his thick arms. Songoro then took wide sweeps, knocking several black beasts to the ground before stomping or crushing them with his bare heavy limbs.

Ilia watched in horror as black bodies fell around them. Hector and Gira were hiding under their mother's arms while Shad head darted about frightened. Uma sat transfixed upon her brother's sword play. "I could do that, easily," scoffed she. "All these years of training and I'm no longer fit to fight?" None answered Uma's rant until the girl rose and went in search of a fallen weapon. Ilia was about to call out in fear, but something else caught her eye first. It was a long spear shaft being thrust in Lakea's direction. Before Ilia could scream in futility, a webbed hand took a hold of the shaft readily and a pale oceanic body spun around the deliver a swift kick to the bearer's side. The spearman relinquished the grip on his spear and fell sideways, dazed. The lady Zora raised the dark weapon up above her head and spun it before thrusting the sharpened metal tip into the former master's chest. Another spear was trust toward Lakea's back, but the swift Zora tilted and allowed the shaft to narrowly miss her side. Instead, the weapon had made contact with and severed the long shaft of the first beast's weapon in two. Undaunted, Lakea hefted the bare broken pole with one hand while uprooting the bloodied broken sister half from the first beast's body. With the two broken sections of the spear in both hands, Lakea spun and avoided the repeated thrusts of her challenger. With the blunt shaft, she clubbed the beast man's helmed head while plunging the bloodied head into its exposed neck. With a gurgle and whimper, the tall black figure fell. Retrieving her victim's elongated weapon, Lakea made war yet again. Her thrusts ran through flesh while her swings broke both bone and concentration. Ilia and Shad could not believe their eyes amid the dark red haze. Songoro simply blew hard laughter as he took a firm hold of a nearby beast man and began to separate its armoured limbs from their proper sockets before casting their bodies away. Colin continued weave and carve his father's blade while Talo felled another beast like a tall black tree with his sword as an axe. Auru raised a free hand and delivered a glancing blow to the chest of a nearby enemy whereupon he raised his mighty blade and cut the flesh from the bone of its leg. The beast man fell to his knees where Auru quickly brought his sword down to bear. The nape of the creature's neck was disturbed by cold steel and soon, the figure felt nothing as his head rolled free. Lakea dispatched of another enemy by running her stolen spear through her opponent's belly, the drenched head appearing unnaturally out the beast's back. The mighty Goron simply crushed a black helm with a single closed palm, the contents of that helm running like pulp between his rocky fingers. Colin raised his raised his blade, Talo recovered from a parry, Lakea dropped her spear in favour of an abandoned short sword, leaving the spear at home within the writhing corpse of her previous kill. Songoro took a step and ended the life of another black being beneath his large flat feet.

The heroes recovered and fought anew. Like the rage of Din, they ventured forth and slew their dark host shrouded by the black crimson mist. They left the dead and dying behind them only to turn and renew their positions around their helpless charge.

Ilia held her shivering children tightly as the defensive group returned to brace the ring around her, Uma, and Shad. The blonde girl held a broken spear shaft close by, her eyes wide with fear. Shad simply sat, his expression unreadable. She suddenly felt sorry for the little man who was barely able to carry his own light weight, let alone a weapon. He was too gentle and Ilia found herself wishing that all men were as such. However, just as the ring reformed around them, dark objects rose from the distance and fell towards them. A pair of black beast men landed within the circle itself, their daggers brandished. Uma screamed and rose to challenged them before the others could turn about. One beast simply turned to her and struck her cheek with a wide sweep of his clawed fist. Uma fell hard onto the ground. The second beast simply sauntered up to Ilia, who placed her children behind her with a savage look upon her face. The expressionless mask that the creature bore as a helm swept his foot and cast the lady mayor aside, leaving the children huddled and frightened. All Hector and Gira could do was sit and stare with fear in their young eyes. A single hand reached out to grab them when the beast reared its head back and screeched aloud. A stricken Ilia recovered in time to see the blade of an ornate dagger, born by the hands of Shad, sunk into the bare foot of the black beast. Shad was not defenseless after all, but a raised dagger from his victim promised to end his courage. Suddenly, a flash of steel removed that threat by removing the arm of the assailant. The beast who reached for the children did not have time to screech a second time before another blade was run through its throat. The pair of jumping beasts clattered to the scorched earth with their lives ended by the hands of Auru and Lakea.

Then, all was silent. Whatever beast men remained had fled the way they came. Colin and Talo stored their blades and Lakea threw down her stolen charge to help Uma to her feet. Shad rose and helped Ilia regain her balance. Little Hector and Gira soon found the embrace of their mother. Songoro beat a solid fist against his rocky chest and bellowed a fierce cry as only a triumphant Goron could.

Auru's grip on his long sword weakened and the old man fell to his knees.


	13. Polarity

**Chapter Twelve: Polarity**

* * *

_"Life always gets harder toward the summit - the cold increases, the responsibility increases..."_

- The Word to the Hero

* * *

Frigid air stabbed at Link's lungs. What he expected to be a thick, warm Ordonian breath became a thin slice of mountain wind. Like a thousand knives, the cold ran through him. Like a thousand knives born by a thousand sadists, that cold tore away at both flesh and mind. Though the sky was still dark with the malevolent stain of crimson, the land - according to Link's squinting eyes - was definitely not Ordonna. In fact, it was the polar opposite.

He was spirited to the Snowpeak Heights. But why? At once, rage built inside Link, for was as furious as he was helpless. He was helpless to fly to the aid of those who needed him, helpless and useless to anyone. He wanted to bellow his rage and allow the mountains the carry his voice. In his confusion, the former hero wondered why.

In his rage, Link halted and wondered what had become of his Twilight Queen. With a quick glance, a tall and dark figure broke the never-ending veil of purest white and doused the heat that violent snows could not. Amid the ballet of the snowy winds that harassed him, Midna appeared unaffected. The deceptive beauty of the snow-laden gales found no quarrel with her. Like a film, or reflective force, the winds simply wove around Midna's radiance. As Link stood, his knees buried, the Regal Queen of Twilight stood aloft above the soft, biting surface, her bare feet seemingly unhindered by the cold. As Link gazed toward her in wonderment, Midna's focused only on the skies above. Link decided to follow that cold stare until he found the object of her attention. The swirling cyanic darkness that was the suspended Twilight Portal wavered and became distorted. Then, as promptly as it had arrived thirteen years ago, the gateway broke and faded from existence. Link's gaze fell onto Midna once more, in time to watch her own eyes narrow and her barred fangs express the anger within. Though the sight was intimidating, the former hero approached and placed a hand upon her cloaked shoulder. Immediately, the tense muscles relaxed and her softened eyes locked with his. "Perhaps," offered Link, "we should find shelter." Queen Midna nodded and motioned toward a nearby cave barred by massive rolling stone.

Upon the stone was the imprint of a large palm that could only belong to an equally enormous being. Link placed his comparatively tiny hand within the imprint and the stone rolled abruptly away.

Within the cave, the cold hung like stale air and darkness, like a curse. Still, the absence of wind increased the welcome of so desolate a place. Cautiously, Link and Midna entered. Much to Link's surprise, the frozen, rocky walls were lined with wooden crates and jars long-forgotten. Within each were stored frozen goods and supplies that Link assumed were worlds away from perishing within this cold. His gauntleted hands were numb and his breath was segmented into near gasps. He glanced toward Midna who appeared to float unhindered about the space, still unaffected by the lashes of frost. Her sunset eyes glowed temptingly in the absence of light. Link envied his Queen and her otherworldly demeanor.

Suddenly, Midna halted and looked curiously toward her green-clad companion. It was then that Link realized he was staring again. With an awkward catch, Link proposed his plan to build-

"You look cold," said She. This caught Link off guard, as if Midna had read his thoughts.

"You look fine," replied Link without much thought as to the variety of ways that statement could have been taken.

Midna smiled and said, "There are certain advantages that the Twili hold over Hylians. One of them is the ability to draw warmth from the shadows and resist the natural elements to a degree."

Link was silent as he drown in his envy. Finally, he spoke again.

"I wish I could draw some of that warmth from the lack of light in here."

"From these shadows, Link, or from mine?" The Queen had posed a query that had sent her former hero aback. Still, he responded, saying, "From which ever is the more permissible." A long moment of deathly cold and silence passed between the pair before Link decided to return to his quest for fire.

At first, the pile of broken dry wood was impressive. Any flame would feast mightily from such a source, provided that the flame was present. Link's frozen hands worked with no sensation to catch a spark from his tinder kit, but it was woefully spent. Even the lantern that supplied some light amid the gloom failed to provide a suitable method of burning.

Then another light rose from the darkness. A furious red glow that overpowered Link's lantern and eventually, the darkness itself. It was warm and it was pulsing, like a living thing. Link followed the heat until his eyes rested upon its source: Midna. With a single finger raised, the frightful orb of energy was hung delicately aloft. Sharp red discharges of lightening erupted from its epicenter. With concentration, the Twilight Queen gently waved that single digit and sent the angry globe onto Link's pile of kindling, consuming it instantly. At that moment, bathed within the red light, Link felt the blood returning to his extremities. In a matter of moments, not only was the former hero warm, but energized.

He and Midna, instead sat.

Now that his flesh was warm, Link's mind began to race once more with thoughts of a burning Ordon and his old friends burning with it. As if his body was submitting to the cold, he shivered. Across from him, the cross-legged Queen of Twilight tilted her head and asked, "You fear for the lives of your friends, evidently."

Link nodded.

"You're afraid that they may be lost?"

"What happened, Midna? Why are we not in Ordon?" asked Link, ignoring his Queen's own question. Midna was silent, her visage saddened. Link pressed, "What happened?" This time there was urgency in his blue eyes. The Regal Queen slowly rose, unable to meet them, but silently walked toward him. Link watched as her beautiful form shank down next to his haggard self. Gently, Midna placed her shadowy palm upon the cheek of her hero. Softly, with defeat, Midna asked, "Can you forgive my loss, Link? I've lost the ability to travel." The former hero thought of the fading Twilight Portal in the sky. He thought of how quickly it faded and was no more.

Not without the Portal. He understood well.

Then, with the same gentle nature of his Queen's move, Link took a hold of the hand that was upon his bearded cheek and felt its warmth.

"I can feel them, Link," said Midna. He was rendered perplexed once more. "Your friends," added Midna. The advantages of being born of the Twilight were many, as it seemed. Link was intrigued.

"How are they?" he inevitably asked.

"I cannot see their faces or tell who specifically they are, but I know they live."

"Are they well?"

"Well, but filled with grief." Despite the flames and the terror that tore into a once-sleepy Ordon, Link breathed a welcomed sigh of relief. With relative peace flooding his veins, he decided to ask of his Queen, "For how long have you had this ability?"

"All of my life," replied she.

"Is there anything else that you haven't told me?"

"Why would I tell my brand new servant anything at first?" Link considered this and moved on, "Do you trust me now?"

Without words, Midna drew her hero near and placed her dark lips upon the soft corner of Link's mouth, where no whiskers dared to grow. Link decided to pend his judgement.

When her lips left, he asked, "What of that armoured subject that was with you while I was in the Twilight."

"What of him?" asked Midna, teasingly. Link did not hazard a guess, so Midna told him, "His name is Darrsek of Lancer, the captain of my personal guard."

"I never thought that you required a guard," said Link, surprised.

"Ceremony, Link. Does a guard of six hundred impress you?" replied the Queen. At that, Link nodded and was genuinely impressed. He asked, "It looks like I'm your sole protector now, my Queen," said Link as he smiled. Midna returned his smile and said, "Not necessarily. You and I were not alone on our trip from the Twilight."

Link, Midna and an entire company of six-hundred mounted Twilit Cavalry, as she explained, had passed through the fabric of the dual worlds and emerged in that of Light. While the Queen and her hero emerged in the sky, so did her six-hundred, armed and prepared for foul combat. Long before Link awoke from his rest, Midna had sent Captain Darrsek and his mounted elite onto the surface world and protect the people of light, to save as many as could be saved. As many as the Mistress would leave alive. Just then, in mid-sentence, Midna halted and gasped as a deep sorrow veiled her sunset eyes.

"What is it?" asked Link.

Midna spoke softly, "A noble soul is reaching its end in Ordon Village." The sting of horror found Link's heart. He then asked, "A noble spirit? Who could that be?"

A noble spirit could mean any one of them, Link argued with himself. Colin? Auru? Songoro or Lakea" ...Ilia?

A ferocious pounding arose from the rocky entrance that caught Link's attention while Midna pressed her smooth fingers against the temples of her head. The former hero stood and drew his Ordonian blade. As Link approached the archway, a single gauntleted wrist clenched the cold leather bound to the sword's handle while the other pressed the concavity of boulder's printed palm. With a loud grinding motion, the rock slid away and revealed the ever-falling curtain of snow upon snow.

A shimmer of red broke the curtain. Eyes. A low pair of glowing crimson eyes to match the bloodied sky. Those narrow slits bore no kindness, only the feral hunger of a beast. Before Link could bring his blade to bare, the red eyes pounced. Link felt a great pressure on his chest as a great pair of padded feet forced the air from his lungs. Large black steel claws wove their way into both cloth and mail, even grazing the flesh. Link was on the ground before he fully realized what had happened to him. An instant later, the former hero raised the hilt of his weapon and strove to strike at what was a narrow skull covered in a snow-like coat of fur. One of the great wolves of Snowpeak, known to Hyrule as White Wolfos, had found a fair meal in the Hylian, though with a single strike, Link hoped to fatally disappoint his hunter. As the pinned, green-clad warrior wound up his hilt-strike, a great maw closed upon his arm. The Wolf had struck first and growled with pleasure as it sunk its elongated lines of fangs into sinew. With his sword-arm disabled, Link sought to fight with his remaining right.

Before he could strike, the Ice Wolf shuddered and halted its actions. The glowing red eyes that once shimmered with hunger now faded with helplessness. Then, the frozen Wolf rose into the air and was swiveled to face the source of its problems: Queen Midna.

Again, with a single finger raised, the regal ruler of Twilight raised the larger foe with the strength of her will alone. The shocked and angry animal that hung before her growled with frustration, the cloudy steam of its breath hung in the air. Midna narrowed her lovely eyes and frowned. Before a cold second could pass, the Wolf's spine folded back, taking the rest of the animal's body with it. In a single twist of the will, Midna had rung Link's assailant into a pliant mess. With a whimper, the beast's life was ended as it hung over the warm red fire of Midna's energy orb. Within the next moment, the icy foe faded and dissolved into snow, never to reappear.

Link smiled in appreciation before his vision began to become nebulous. Vibrations radiated through the cavern and Link watched as Midna turned to face the growing source of vibrations. Around the corner from where he and the Ice Wolf has struggled; from the entranceway to their cave, dark figures emerged. The vibrations grew in strength as they neared and Link would hear a heavy, animalistic breathing. It was clear that the periodic vibrations were, indeed, footsteps amid the depths of the snowy peak.

He tried to fight the pain coursing through his arm. Link, the former Hero of Light, begged his Ordonian blade to find its master's grip. He had to stand and face the bearer of such heavy footsteps. He had to protect his Queen.

Link's vision held on for such a time as to watch his Midna, his Twilight Queen, step back; her sunset eyes wide with awe. Link would have bellowed his helplessness aloud, had his voice not given way and his mind not parted in flight.

* * *

Author's Note: What a bummer, eh? What was supposed to be a short trip has now become a long, and winding road. You might noticed that I love using, "sunset" to describe Midna's eyes. I can think of no other fitting word to describe my favourite LoZ character. The purpose of this story was to bring her back in a feesable way. As you continue reading, I just hope that my intentions remain vivid.

I would also like to thank **Yoshiegg** for his heart-warming comments thus far. They are very welcome and very helpful. Thanks, man. I hope the rest of this story continues to draw the same amount of pleasure, just as your comments are a pleasure to read.

Regards,

-Justin.


	14. Final Duty

**Chapter Thirteen: Final Duty**

* * *

_  
"Cowards die many times before their deaths  
The valiant never taste of death but once."_

- The Emperor to his World

* * *

Shocked, Shad ran forward and held his elderly friend up. In doing so, he felt the warm wet slickness that ran from the old knight's back. From there, a long sharp sensation of a dagger blade sunk deeply into a lung. The wound was deep.

Uma gently cradled her kitten named Callie. In the confusion of battle, the young woman had nearly forgotten the kennel that sat near the lake. Uma was not alone, but with little Hector and Gira, minding them while their mother ran toward the fallen knight. Colin and Talo, as well as the Goron and Zora stood watchfully by, though the grief in their hearts was etched upon their unique picturesque faces. As Lady Ilia knelt down to tend to her elderly protector, Uma wondered at the words they hushed.

Of all the sorrow in every visage within that burning village, the Lady Mayor's was the most burdened. Ilia's passionate green eyes shot back and forth between both Auru - whose brown eyes were shut - and their scholarly friend. Shad offered a simply sad frown that denoted the worst for Ilia.

Auru was going to die.

"Is there anything we can do?" asked the mother. Shad listlessly shook his head.

"No," he explained, "The wound is too deep and he has lost too much blood."

"I was going to ask you to keep it down, Shad," Auru's voice was strong, but the strength was ebbing. The Knight continued, "Don't need to upset every one else, now."

"Auru, they are already upset, just rest easy." Shad's voice was weak also, despite his perfect health. Ilia tried her best to maintain her own shock and grief, not for her sake but for that of those around her. She did not want to betray her frustration at the Goddesses of Destiny for severing her only real connection to Link's past. Ilia quickly repressed those thoughts, deeming them selfish and inappropriate given the horrible circumstances.

"I'm sorry, my Lady." muttered the passing Auru. Ilia pretended not to be shocked and instead placed a mask of perplexity. Before she could recite a reply, the Knight spoke on, "I'm sorry for failing to aid you in your quest for knowledge."

"There is little need to apologize to me, Sir Auru." Ilia felt embarrassed and failed to regain her full composure. Auru smiled and reached feebly into his breast pocket. However, the contents that he grasped for did not return with his balled fist. Auru, defeated, lay his head back and told Ilia, "My Lady, if you reach into my jacket, you may find some items that you find to great use. I currently lack the strength to retrieve them myself."

Ilia hesitated as Auru fully withdrew his bloodied hand. Slowly, the Lady Mayor reached into the jacket and found a pair of peculiar belongings. One was a key, a silver key that was both long and weighty. It bore the pressed seal of Royal Hyrule's Golden Hawk and Triforce. The other was a single envelope containing a single letter and the same Seal of the Realm. It was addressed to the Keeper of the Archives.

"Take those to the Castle and you will find what you seek." Ilia took them and held them close to her weeping heart.

"Thank you," said she. Auru simply grinned a gentle grin.

"Shad," groaned the Knight. The little man leaned over his friend, asking, "Auru?"

"Please, Shad. Take my ring and sword back to the Hall of Nobles and lay it to rest."

"I will, friend," replied a tearful Shad who promptly pulled both ring from finger and blade from scabbard.

"Thank you, friend," whispered Auru. "Long live the righteous Group!"

"Hail." mumbled Shad.

Auru weakly turned his head to Ilia, brown eyes wide, saying, "Rech." said he, "His name. It was Rech."

"Who is Rech, Sir Auru?" asked Ilia.

"I knew it from the moment I met the lad. Pity I had to hold my old tongue." At that moment, the colour in the old Knight's eyes faded and his lids became heavy. At last, they closed and sealed with death as it passed onto him.

Auru, Knight of Hyrule, had finally been released from his earthly shackles, his spirit freed.

His death was graced with the tears of the few, which lent the weight the many.

Ilia stood, finally. With key and envelope in hand, the Lady Mayor walked around the motionless body of her passed Knight and removed the heavy belt from his waist. With the burden of equipment gone, Ilia managed to lift the old man's shoulders with greater success. Slowly, she dragged the large man's corpse toward the nearest roaring flames. The green-eyed lady stumbled at first, but another hand caught her unbalance. Colin took charge of a limp shoulder and aided his Mayor. A rocky pair of fists lightened the load by lifted the Knight's legs and elevating them over the flames. With a gentle motion, cradling the entire man, Songoro placed Auru into the fire to be burned.

The foul beasts would not enjoy the privilege of a Noble man's flesh, should they have been so barbaric. As Ilia and her group marched solemnly out of the valley, she took a final sweeping glance upon the desolation. It was then that she felt correct on her judgement of barbarism.

Though she may not triumph over the new threatening force, she declared within herself, the mightiest of wars against it. So long as her children were living, no creature would ever harm them. And that was her defiance, her refusal to be easily conquered.

* * *

Coro's house was no more. For the moment, Ilia and her group thought the worst had happened to the sweet oil merchant. Suddenly, a bush of smokey brown hair, singed and in disarray emerged from the tree line. Relief spread not only over Ilia's face, but that of Uma as well who rushed to embrace the man, despite his minor burned and lacerations. "Coro! How did you..." screamed a curious Uma with mewing Callie in tow.

Coro smiled his crooked smile and said, "When I see trouble, I run. Good thing too because look what happened to my house, my oil. My revenue!"

"Revenue," said a caution Colin, "is the least of your worries, Coro."

"I know," replied Coro, who found himself holding Uma's hand while the girl cradled Callie in the other. "I know, but... what happened?"

"We're not sure," said Ilia, a cold stare in her eyes, "but we need to get to Castle Town and fast. Are you in or out?"

"In, I guess," said Coro, intimidated, "but won't you folks need your animals?" The group sat stunned as they had neglected their steeds in light of the traumatic events. The trip to Castle Town would be doubled and the chances of survival lessened. Ilia seemed angry at that moment.

Coro smiled, "Don't worry guys, let Coro settle your worries."

At that, the merchant led the group beyond the beaten path through a rocky ravine. There, unharmed, were Estbar the stallion as well as the other steeds. Included was the Goron-crafted rickshaw and a whole iron wood wagon that was sheathed with a thick hide. Shocked still, the group passed their grateful thanks toward the stalky salesman: Ilia thanked Coro with a smile; the men with friendly claps on the back. The Goron with a toothy grin and the Zora with a curt bow. Uma, heeding her watchful brother's averted eyes, with a tender embrace.

Coro, taken by the young maiden's beauty, had lost all sense and promptly fell to the familiar ground.

Coro regained consciousness when the final straps and harnesses were secured to each horse and single Songoro.

The hour of Twilight was past and the night began to set.

_There would be time for burials and headstones later_, thought Ilia. _The most important address is that of Central Hyrule and the hope that there are other survivors. If I am lucky, then I not only ensure the safety of my fellowship, but also gain that which I seek._

Ilia found herself hoping that the bastion had withstood the assault and that there was still a lit candle in the darkness. The group looked up to her at that moment and she needed to lead with the same tenacity that won her the leadership of the former Sleepy Ordon.

As the wagon bounced along in darkness, she wondered, as Hector and Gira slept soundly on her lap, about Link and his well-being. She wished her husband well in his next life if he was indeed alive.

Ilia did not dwell on Aeadis, whose death had taken more of a toll on her than she had imagined.

He would have been contented to know how deeply she did feel after all.

As the night ran deeper, Ilia tried to sleep but was unable to. The name of Rech, Auru's last words, ran equally deep within her.

'_Rech_. That was his name.'

Finally, Ilia was able to drift away with her children. The three days voyage would take a mighty toll on both man and beast and for that reason, the sleep was light.

Eventually, Hyrule Castle, or what remained, would hopefully welcome them.


	15. Passage of Despair

**Chapter Fourteen: Passage of Despair  
**

**

* * *

**_"And now set in a fell and fierce fight, one of a thousand of which no chronicler has spoken and no poet sung. Through all the centuries and over all those southern waters nameless men have fought in nameless places, their sole monuments a protected coast and an unravaged country-side."_

- Doyle.

* * *

Link's nostrils captured a most wondrous sensation. That stimulus was more potent than the deepest kiss or the sharpest sword or the loudest cannon. The scent and its source bubbled and rolled and wafted superbly into the air. Link's mouth, once dry with cold began to moisten with warm hunger. His stomach too awakened to the stir of the nearby cauldron. The shuffling he heard denoted two pairs of feet both foreign to Link's sharpening ears. Neither pair belonged to Midna, as the former hero puzzled. It was then that he remembered that, among his active senses, sight was not granted. With a groan, the Hylian man brushed a gauntleted hand across where he felt his eyes to be and wiped away a warm, moist cloth. Such was how the mystery of the blinded hero lifted. As the world lit and slid into focus, Link noticed three figures that gazed in his direction. One was a tall dark mist of beauty that he knew to be his Queen. The other two were a mismatch of tall, robust fur and small, delicate tenderness. A loud but friendly huff from the tall, robust one chimed Link's memory. The face beneath the fur coat contained large amber eyes, flat nose, and toothy grin that could shear flesh from the Dark Lord himself. Even the thick matted fur of his coat could not belay the sheer mass of solid muscle that served as a body.

This was Yeto the Yeti, the dangerous, yet civilized Keeper of Snowpeak.

The small, delicate one who bore large black penetrating pools for eyes and rosy cheeks waddled to Yeto's side. An enormous clawed palm found its way around the female Yeti's shoulder.

This was Yeta, the loving wife of Yeto. Thirteen years later and the pair betrayed no signs of disloyalty to each other.

Midna smiled at the warmth that the Yetis provided to one another and gazed flirtatiously back at Link, who, himself in the presence of his regal Queen, began to feel heated.

Yeto was the first to end the silence, "Oh, hero is awake, uh. Good. Have surprise for you!"

Yeto's broken Hylian was a welcome sound to Link's ears as he rose upright. It was then that he noticed that his chest was bare and bandaged and his shoulder, sewn and sore. The memory of the Ice Wolf and its vile toothy maw awoke a sharp pain within the tender shoulder. Link winced, but not overtly so. The sensation of the wound was then re-shrouded by the sensation of the boiling cauldron and its intoxicating aroma. Yeto placed himself behind said chamber pot and scooped a large portion of radiating soup within an equally large ladle. The Yeti poured the orange soup into a wooden bowl and handed it the eager former hero. It smelled of fish and cheese with a hint of wild Ordonian pumpkin. It truly a superb soup indeed and Link drained his entire helping before requesting another.

Four bowls later, Link was fully dressed, aware, and thankful to the Yeti couple. Midna remained, as ever, quietly observant, yet not without extending her own cordial gratitude. The Yeti pair returned the sentiment with low bows of respect. While shaking the large paw of Yeto, Link noticed the large tent-like structure that was laid bare by the cave's entrance. This structure was complete with large leathery straps that indicated the concept of carrying. "Pleasant time for a trip, is it not, Yeto?" The Yeti appeared confused as the two men casually ended the shake. Anger appeared to boil within the amber eyes of the civilized snow beast. This anger made Link thankful that his arm was still not locked with that of the Keeper. Gentle Yeta placed her gloved hand upon her husband's arm and said to Link, "Apologies, Hero. Husband and I are on one-way trip. Away from Snowpeak."

"Why is that?" asked Midna, approaching Link's side.

"Because," replied Yeta, "home is no longer home. Sky turn red and fire fall down."

Link and Midna gazed both at each other and the Yeti pair in alarm: _The Mistress_.

Yeta, with her broken tone ever-saddening, said, "What see you is what have left of home." Yeto gently wrapped his strong arms around his grieving wife and said, "We all eat, uh, then wife and I go see Zoras. Make new life."

"Then we will go with you," Said Midna, stepping forward, extending her hand. "We will help you in any way we can." Yeta and Yeto drew, what Link interpreted as smiles upon their covered faces and Link nodded in agreement. Yeta came forward to take both Midna's elegantly dark hand and Link's rough gauntlet, happily saying, "Hero has chosen a fine mate." Link's mouth fell open, no words falling with it. Midna turned her head have a sidelong glance in her hero's direction whereupon her soft radiating sunset eyes left him in a daze. Her perfect mauve lips curled in the most alluring way.

Within the cold of all Snowpeak, Link was melting.

"Hero looks feint again, uh," observed the tall Yeti man.

A blizzard was welled and rose against the blood red heavens. Yeto and Yeta led the trek downward while Link trudged his way behind them. A spare coat granted by Yeta saw Link warmly, yet awkwardly wrapped upon his downward quest. The cold steel of both scabbard and shield protruded from the coat's warmth.

Midna walked gingerly upon the banks that Link himself trudged through, her ethereal weight inconsequential to the density of the loose snow. Once more, the cold gusts and plentiful flakes assailed the Twilight Queen not, but simply veered away, like shadow to the light.

As if by some miracle, or divine farce, the group encountered no threat of opposition or threat of attack. Only the ever-hardening wall of wind and snow.

It was then, too good to be true. Yeto suddenly halted and sniffed the air with his flat wide nose. Link strained to the snow man's side and asked, "What do you smell, Yeto?"

Yeto replied, "Wolfos. Many Wolfos, uh. This way coming." Link spun around and painfully drew the cold blade. The shield felt heavy in the grasp of his sore shoulder, but he hefted it nonetheless. Distant cries bled through the air. These were not of sorrow or even hunger. These were cries of morbidity. Link asked again, "How many can you smell?"

"Too many, Hero. We hurry, uh, to lake."

"But we can fight them off and buy the women time to go down." The idea felt foolish as it travelled from Link's mouth to his ears. His shoulder began to protest the resistance of the broad shield. _No_, he thought, _we cannot leave them alone. We have to run_. Link glanced upward toward Yeto and said, "Lead the way, I'll watch your back."

"No, human, uh." said the Yeti, "protect your mate and mine, uh. I kill Wolves." Before Link could protest, Yeto let down his charge of supplies and removed the tarpaulin. Laying the woven fiber down, Yeto instructed his wife to mount it. The Keeper held the object down with a mighty foot. Without words, but much reluctance, the lady Yeti obeyed. Midna, also hesitantly, sat upon the tarp. Link stared defiance toward Yeto, "I'm not leaving without you!"

"Human, go!" At that, Yeto used his mighty hand to push Link down upon the make-shift sliding carpet and used the other arm to force it forward, down the mountainside.

"Husband!" shouted the distressed Yeta as she gripped the front of the tarpaulin, forming a plough with which to skirt through the soft snow with increasing momentum. Before the brave Yeti disappeared into the fading white, Link watched in horror as two, three, four pairs of Wolfos charged fiercely into Yeto's massive swinging arms.

"Midna!" shouted Link above the passing gales, "we can't leave him up there!" The Queen of Twilight simply held her eyes shut as she sat upon the kinetic sled, seemingly unaffected by the traumatic events that took place around them.

Finally, they reached the frozen lake at the foot of the mountain. At full speed, the shore was nigh approaching. Link glanced to his left and right and saw a most terrifying sight: Wolfos running along side them, quickly closing in. Without hesitation, Link removed his coat and fixed a shaft to his Hero's Bow. With split-second timing, Link sent a solid arrow into one Wolf's side, casting it down as they sped away. Midna remained still and calm as Link slew another Ice Wolf, cursing the entire way down.

He cursed the snow, the cold, the crimson sky, the Wolves, the Mistress, everything.

Link cursed all but his aim and those he sought to protect. Cursing them was not the fairest of ideas. At the lake, Yeta steered toward a large bank and they took it with full force. Up and over the ice and unfrozen waters.

Down they came with great force on the other side of the lake. They were, at last, safe.

Despite the force, Midna was still. Link helped the struggling Yeta to her feet when he turned to face his Queen. _What, _wondered Link,_ is she meditating on that could possibly demand this much attention?_

As soon as he thought those words, Midna's sunset eyes opened, distant and hard. With a breath of effort, she barred her fangs and raised her palms. With a sigh, Midna calmly rose and said, "Link, you may want to step a couple paces to your right."  "Why?"

"Please don't ask questions, Link. You'll understand soon enough."

A distant, faded cry caught all their ears. Midna breathed in and smiled at Link, whose realization was eventually activated. Link dove and rolled away from his standing position and rose in time to see a massive snowy fur ball impact into the soft snow upon which he was formerly planted. A confused groan followed the impact and the figure stood well over them all. As the snow flakes settled, bright amber eyes were seen penetrating the curtain of snow. "Uh, what happen?"

A brightened little Yeta betrayed the widest of Yeti grins as she charged her husband with a tight embrace. Link stood, dumbfounded as he glanced at Midna. Sheepishly, the regal Queen glanced at her hero and curled her lips. It was an impish grin, but one that sang to Link's heart, despite the foolishness he felt in questioning her.

Yeto was not badly injured, but the series of bloody gashes and punctures upon his arms and legs were enough to take down the mightiest of men. Still, the light in those amber eyes did not fade, for they found great comfort in being locked with those glistening of his beloved. Link and Midna walked along the snow path towards the cavernous entrance into the realm of the marine Zora.

In time, the wounded, but happy Yeti and his loving wife wold follow.

The Domain of the Royal Zora was, by nature, a quiet and industrious place. Constant, welcoming warmth was emulated by its proud and graceful people, the fish-like Zora. Though delicate in appearance, the beautifully finned denizens bore both strength and agility in both battle and travel. This was so, as such traits were demanded by the unforgiving currents of the Zora River within which all Zora live and grow. Like its people, their architecture was firmly set and not without grace, though against the blood-red sky, such qualities were scarce.

There was commotion where there should have been peace and there was fear where there should have been quiet confidence. Link was the first to enter the domain and the first to have the sharpened coral head of a Zora spear pressed against his throat.

"Declare thy allegiance, o bearded swordsman or be slain!" This was the voice of a young male Zora from behind an intricate iron helmet, his shaking spear shaft ripe with fear. Link continued to gaze forward, gauging his surroundings. There was the young guard that held his throat and a more senior Zora on approach. Link saw much more activity at the mouth of the coursing river, though this entrance was dammed with wood and stone. _Someone or something was clearly not invited._

"Speak!" demanded the Zora, his spear tip drawing a feint bead of blood down the former hero's throat.

"I am Link of Hylia, friend to the Zora. I request an audience with your lord."

"None shall see King Ralis presently. Our orders are to consider all outsiders as hostile until he deems otherwise."

"Even old friends?" asked Link. By this time, Midna found her way to Link's side, surprised, though not obviously so.

"Who is this woman?" demanded the young Zora.

Before Link could answer, his Queen took her own words, "I am Midna, Queen of a distant realm and also a friend of Zora. I humbly request an audience with your King." The senior Zora guard approached with his own spear in hand and pointed the lethal edge toward the Queen. He asked in a gravelly stern voice, "Enter slowly and leave any arms you possess here with us. We shall see if you are friends or otherwise."

"With all due respect, o man of the river," began Midna, tensely, "We must pass through to the South. In exchange, we carry urgent news, a warning that must be heeded if the Zora are to survive these dark times."

"Dark times indeed," retorted the senior guard. "We have taken to our own precautions and are following our Lord's will: None shall pass. We also need no help from the likes of you, Royalty though you may be, Stranger Queen."

Though Link felt the need to reach Ralis and demand passage regardless of the destruction left behind him, Midna spoke calmly once more in his stead, "I ask you again, friend Zora, please grant us passage."

"And my reply is unchanged," said the senior Zora, tightening his grip, "No."

It was then that a great pair of clawed, leathery hands found their way around the mouth of the Mountain passage and the large frightening face of Yeto emerged. "Uh, what take so long?" asked he. Startled, the Zora guards stepped back, redirecting their spear shafts. Sensing the threat, Yeto bellowed aloud with a fierce war cry. Link quickly drew his Ordonian blade and removed the young Zora's coral spearhead from the shaft in a single stroke. With the focus of her mind alone, Midna twisted and broke the senior Zora's own weapon, ultimately casting it aside. Yeto stepped out and rose to his full intimidating height. Link faced the young Zora who threw down his spear and balled his fists in provocation of a stand. The former hero simply shook his head.

"ENOUGH!" A loud male voice echoed throughout the Zora Kingdom. Link gazed upward and saw a commanding sight: Ralis, the only son of the late Zora Queen Rutela, standing upon the very tip of the nearby waterfall that came from his upper throne room. As the darkened water fell from on high, Link noticed a change in the boy, for he was no longer the feeble young prince, but the tall strong figure of an adult. From his lofty perch, the Zora King jumped and dove into the pool depths near the shores upon which Link and he group stood. Like a mammal of the sea, Ralis rose from the water and placed a firm webbed footing upon the cold ground. He approached Link directly, soon followed by an entourage of red-skinned Honor Guards, their coral spears and blades at the ready. As the King neared, Link stored his weapon and gave a short bow, holding it. Ralis stopped before the former hero and bade him to rise. Up close, the Zora King's string features shone amid the darkness. He carried his mother's bright and powerful green eyes that studied both Link and his company. The anger in the Zora's voice gave way to sudden curiosity. "You seem familiar, swordsman," said Ralis.

Rising from his low bow, Link locked his sapphire blue eyes with Ralis and replied, "Let not the beard blind your Highness to an old friend."

At that, the Zora King shook his head in disbelief, "Link?" The green-clad former smiled and said, "The same, my King."

"Orders, sire?" asked the tallest of the red-skinned warriors, still brandishing his sharpened coral blade.

"Stand down, guards. And return to your posts."

"Yes, my Lord." replied the weary guards as they gathered the remains of their former weapons and turned to retrieve fresh ones.

* * *

All was settled and Link's company were left to their peace. Yeta tended to her husband's wounds while Midna stood by Link in observing the events that unfolded before them, under the watchful eyes of the Zora King who also stood with them. "King," began Link, "I would like to introduce to you, Midna: Queen of a distant Realm and ally to Hyrule." Ralis smiled a warm Zora smile and extended a strong, finned hand. "A pleasure," he said. Midna wordlessly took the hand which Ralis gently grasped and planted a small kiss upon her wrist. Midna bowed her head and raised it with a smile both teasingly to Link and graciously to the Zora King. "The pleasure is all mine, surely," declared she.

"Link," said Ralis.

"Yes, King Zora?"

"Please, friend, call me by my name."

"Yes, Ralis?"

"You and your Queen may walk with me. There is much to discuss." Ralis bade Link to come as he walked along the smooth edge of the Zora lake. The words from the mouth of King Ralis to Link were not authoritative, but more of a requesting nature; the King's true, kind nature.

"So let me first apologize," began Ralis as they toured the make-shift battlements, "for the weariness and aggression of my soldiers. These are dark times and word has reached my ears of an invasion of these lands. As King, I cannot allow risk. You surely understand, am I correct?"

"Yes, Ralis," replied Link, still bitter about the formal kiss, "I understand."

"Forgive my ignorance, Queen Midna, but in which land, may I ask, is thy throne?"

At this, Midna could give no direct answer. Curious as her elegant appearance was to the Zora, explaining Twilight posed many a complication. One of such was the fact that the enemies from thirteen years passed, those that so coldly ended the Zora Queen's life, were born from her Kingdom. That information carried the risk of Ralis questioning the validity of Midna's standings.

So, she decided to do what she did best.

"My Throne, o King, as well as my realm, no longer exist."

"How so?" asked the King Zora.

"The very enemy that you prepare against is the same that vanquished my lands and burned my people. Though my Kingdom has fallen, I remain its deposed Queen." Link could tell that, despite Midna's secrecy, the deception was costly to the sanctity of his Queen's heart. He decided to interject amid the sorrowful silence that followed, "So you see, my King, we have a first-hand account of what we face. We are willing to help you in your struggle, so long as we gain passage to the South."

Ralis appeared to consider this. Link gazed around, sensing the uncertainty and fear. Damming the river would not be enough to stop the vile tides that were approaching. "In a time of dire straights," began Ralis, "there are few I would consider truly reliable. Though, I cannot risk the safety of mine people against what I do to fully understand. Therefore, I will hear what you have to say, o Queen of the Fallen Realm."

Much time passed at the war room. Too much time for Link's liking. Ralis sat upon his coral throne, surrounded by his staff and advisors. Midna divulged all she knew and all the Oocca had told them about their current dilemma. Soon, the words, "Mistress" and, "dragons," floated about among the armoured Zora generals and their adjutants. Many looked upon Midna with mixed interest and suspicion. Link was not impressed by the lack of focus.

"So, this warlady; this, 'Mistress of Four' has engulfed nearly all of Hyrule in fire."

"Yes, my King," confirmed Link.

"Do we know if they are headed this way?"

"Sire, They have been advancing from the South and the North-east. For all we know, they strike at Hyrule's flanks as well." Link emphasized his point by sliding his gauntleted hands across the large map table.

"And Queen Midna can confirm this as well?"

"I have seen it with my own eyes," declared Midna, annoyed with lack of progress her and Link had been making with the Military Council.

"If these flying machines do exist," scoffed an aging Zora general with long tendrils spouting from the corners of his mouth, "how do we defend the skylight?"

"We cannot, General Sal."

"My Lord?" asked the general, taken aback.

"You cannot win this fight here, should they arrive overhead, King Ralis," said Link.

"And why should our King believe you, Hylian?" barked General Sal. "We have defended our home before and we can do so again!"

Midna decided to interject, saying, "Thirteen years ago, dark beasts from a cursed and unwilling realm seamlessly and effortlessly killed your queen and enslaved your citizens in ice. It was through the efforts of Link and myself that freed you." The general was silent, though still seemingly unconvinced.

"The Hylian, General Sal," said Ralis, rising from his Throne, "once saved my life. I --we-- owe him a great deal, if you do not remember. I believe every word he and he lovely Queen say and I therefore will enact the following orders."

Link smiled as Ralis began to list off his intentions, "Order the evacuation of the Zora homewaters. Inform all citizens to leave all luxuries and charge what they can carry to the Passage of New Light."

Link had never heard of such a passage before and asked a nearby advisor for clarification. The advisor was forthcoming and answered, "The Passage is a hidden refuge that leads beyond Hyrule and into the Great Sea. Our people have the ability to adapt and survive in the salt waters, should the need arise. We have long feared the day when the Passage of New Light would be needed and we would be forced to leave our home."

"You have our sympathy, friend Zora. We shall help you in any way we can, though we must be swift. We are needed in the South."

The orders were swift in being carried out. Among the many Zora, the children were the most calm. All marine people swam and walked in a stressed but formal fashion. In great droves, they filed into the Zora Lake and down into the submarine entrances or walked into the hidden caves that led to the Passage of New Light. Link and Midna observed the progress from their lofty height upon the waterfall. After the evacuation was cited, Ralis sent a runner to allow Link and his company passage through to Eldin Province to the South-west. From there, he and and his Queen planned on making their way over land to reach Ordon. With that plan in motion and the Zoras safety ensured, all seemed well, despite the crimson-coloured sky.

It was then that the ground began to shake and distant thunder roared.

Ralis approached Link and Midna, who gazed upward. "What in the name of Jabu..."

The Zora Domain was divided into two segments. The Entrance segment bordered with Central Hyrule to the South west. Following against the river current the entrance to the heart of the Zora Kingdom, where the dam was located. Black Ships floated in the red air toward the initial Domain entrance, well away from the Heart. From the Air Ships, dropped many large black pods that landed well beyond the rocky peaks. From a distance, Link witnessed the inferno unleashed by the Black Ships. Lines of concentrated fire poured onto unseen positions, vaporizing unseen targets. Anyone alive within that borderland, was no more as the flames rose.

"Sound the alarm, General Sal. Hasten the evacuation and get our troops into cover."

"Yes, sire." responded the aged officer.

At once, the sound of drums and horns shot panic within the crowd, who indeed, hastened their escape. Link's fist grew tight around the railing that separated him from the length dive below. He turned to Midna and said, "They've dropped their charges on our escape route downriver."

Midna said nothing, but her expression read pure disappointment.

Another quivering in the ground shook loose many foundations, casting down heavy broken stones to the ground. Then, a sudden pounding against the makeshift dam, followed by another and another.

"Hold the dam!"

"Brace against ramming!"

"They are coming!" These shouts from below reached Link's pointed ears and he looked towards Ralis, whose guard handed him a spear shaft and coral sword. As the King was arming himself, he asked Link, "Who threatens my dam, Link?"

"Servants of the Mistress," said Link, "and many of them. The same that attacked my village and threaten the survivors we wish to reach."

"If they threaten my people, then they must be punished." Ralis then shouted above the din in a mighty voice, "To arms! Zora and ally alike, drive back these foul beasts and save our blood!"

Link drew his blade and nodded to Midna, "Get yourself save, my Queen." The regal monarch of Twilight tilted her head in bemusement, "I'm sorry, Link, but I seem to recall that I saved your skin last time. What makes you think you won't need saving this time?"

Ralis chose to ignore the argument and walked past the pair, his guards in tow. With a mighty bound, Ralis, once again, took a graceful dive into the Zora depths. Link took a glance at the fall and back to Midna and said, "Either way, I'm going to help."

"In that case," replied the Twilight Queen, "I might as well look after you."

With a smile, Link bonded after Ralis and dove into the water below. He rose just in time to see Midna gracefully land upon the dry ground before him. Link had learned not to wonder why, only to be thankful in the long run. His faded tunic and trousers heavy with water and his boots full, Link was an amusing sight to see before battle. Then, standing at his side was the monstrously huge Yeto, his arms bandaged and his anger burning. The Yeti looked down at Link and asked, "More enemies, uh?"

Link nodded and Yeto smiled. "Time to make pay for destroying home!"

The lines were set and the pieces were in motion. On high and around the Zora walls, were archers, drawing their coral-head arrow shafts. On the ground before the dam was an entire legion of spearmen, ready to repel any breakthrough. More troops advanced from cover, as the Black Ships of the air had not advanced beyond the entrance to the Zora Domain further South. Patiently, the Ships paused. They held their positions; likely waiting on the legions of Black Beast men, the servants to the Mistress of Four, to make their advance.

"Their breaking through!" The vicious pound on the dam became more and more frequent until...

"Zora!" shouted Ralis, his spear at the ready, "Prepare to defend yourselves!"

They came with full force. An entire wave of black-armoured men wielding axes, spears, and swords flowed through the gap in the dam. At once, the Zora marksmen loosened their bows and send shafted coral down upon the Black wave. At once, the first line of dispersing Beast men fell, writhing on the rocky ground. Still, more came through. While the Zora projectiles fell, so came the thrusting spears of the Zora line.

Ralis among his guards, swung and slew many Beast men upon his coral spearhead. When the shaft of his weapon was broken by the force of an enemy axe, the Zora King swung sideways and drew his short-blade, impaling the axeman though his side, where the armour appeared thinner. Once the sword was withdrawn, Ralis turned to face a new challenger.

Link charged headlong into the fray, swinging his Ordonian blade to and fro, cutting down many foes in his wake. With his tender shoulder bracing his broad Hyrulean shield, Link was not entirely limited in his defence. While he parried one sword, Link thrust and bashed his shield into the unprotected face of a Beast solider. The dazed man stumbled back in time to receive Link's sword tip through the heart. Like the Zora King, Link recovered and sought more Beast blood.

Yeto was a beast among beasts. Though civilized by trade, the Yeti was far from cordial in his methods of slaying prey. With the harsh brutality of his muscular arms, the Keeper of Snowpeak crushed his enemies and dashed their skulls against the rocky ground. A simply twist of the wrist removed one Beast's torso from the rest of his body. Another swing sent a Bestial soldier into the swords and spears of his comrades. For each life ended, Yeto bellowed aloud in triumph.

Still, for each Beast slain, there were many more to replace it. It was soon that the Zora began to succumb to casualties of their own. No longer could the archers loosen their arrows for the lack of missiles or the uncertainty of defining their targets. Despite the grievous losses that Link, Ralis and their fellow defenders inflicted, The Zora line was nearing collapse. Link fought his way toward Ralis and said above the screams, "The line is breaking, we need to retreat!"

"Not until our people are safely away!" retorted the embattled Zora King.

"Your people cannot survive without their leader. Go now and I'll cover your retreat!"

"Just a few more moments, Link. We need to properly seal the entrance to the Passage after we leave. I have specialists readying the landslide now. Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more,  
Or close the wall up with our Zora dead!"

"I have a better idea. Wait here and prepare to retreat when I give my signal!" Link did not bother to wait for Ralis' reply. He was able to see Midna despite the chaos. No enemy could near her without being cast away or killed by her abilities. The two made a long eye-contact before Midna smiled and nodded. Link turned back to face the Zora King, who had just dispatched of rather large Beast, and raised his Sword of Ordon into the air. Ralis saw this and bellowed, "Zora! Retreat!"

A horn was sounded in the deep and the elegant-looking Zora, their bodies bruised and bleeding, fell away from the battle, the Black Beasts in pursuit.

Link found his way back to Midna's side and beat off many a Black foe as his Queen prepared herself. With deadly focus, Midna bore her fangs and raised her arms. Grasping at the air, she clenched her fists and and pushed down upon some invisible plain with great effort. With strain and a short gasp, Midna relaxed and watched as the entire cavern that served as the entrance to the Heart of the Zora Domain; one that was formerly walled, came crashing down onto the beasts below. Great waves were stirred and many bones were crushed under the falling cave ceiling.

"Turn!" Called Ralis as the remnants of his force wheeled to face their formerly victorious enemies. "Kill them all!"

Blades clashed and shields were shaken. Blood ran slick across the rocky floor of the ravaged Zora Domain. Many marine people lay slain along with the grotesque pile of enemy dead. Victory was not celebrated, though nothing could be done about the victorious dead.

For, the Black Ships appeared overhead. Without hesitation, Ralis ordered the immediate retreat into the remaining Passage entrances. Link, Midna, Yeto, and Ralis were among the few that manages to dive into these places before the entire Upper Zora River and Domain were awash in flame. Ralis faced the closest officer left alive and asked, "Where is General Sal, captain?"

"He fell sire," replied the worn Zora man. Ralis nodded in disappointment then asked, "Are the specialists still alive?"

"Yes sir," said a voice from the darkness, "I am one."

"Can the landslide be triggered to cover our escape?"

"Yes, sire," declared the Zora, "I merely await your order." Ralis regarded his few bloody men and nodded.

Generations of Zora life and history were buried under many tonnes of rock that day, along with many brave brothers in arms. Ralis said, "Follow me and we shall reunite with our people. They will be anxious." As they walked, Link used his own tunic to wipe the blood off of his weapons, though it was still wet from the earlier dive. Midna strolled effortlessly along side him, appearing as though her great performance had not affected her in the slightest. Link was impressed for sure.

Yeto's white fur was red with blood, though it was not his own. He had sustained little to no injury while clawing and mutilating his victims within the mighty fray.

Ralis walked ahead of the group, the cuts and abrasions sustained in battle not hindering him in the slightest. _The Zora_, Link thought as they continued into the darkness,_ have a good taste in royalty._ He then gazed at Midna who shared a smile with him. _At least we have that, if not more, in common._

Onward they marched into the heart of the mountain. Link suddenly felt the warmth of Midna's hand wrap around his. It was a message that, somehow, they would find a way out and a way to continue their journey.


	16. House of the Noble Horse

**Chapter Fifteen: House of the Noble Horse**

* * *

_"For she is a fair maiden, fairest lady of a house of queens. And yet I know not how I should speak of her. When I first looked on her and perceived her unhappiness, it seemed to me that I saw a white flower standing straight and proud, shapely as a lily, and yet knew that it was hard, as if wrought by elf-wrights out of steel. Or was it, maybe, a frost that had turned its sap to ice, and so it stood, bitter-sweet, still fair to see, but stricken, soon to fall and die?"_

- The King for White Tower to the King of the Golden Hall

* * *

The red hour of Twilight had passed and the sun was setting on the second day.

Sudden weakness found Ilia and she was forced to surrender her position at the front of the cart. She, therefore, sat in the large cart with her children. Both Hector and Gira snuggled happily with their mother, despite the grumbling in their empty stomachs. Before exhaustion took the then, the twins occupied themselves with the friendly kitten named Callie, who purred playfully from behind the bars of her kennel. There were few provisions to spread between all of them. Fortunately for Ilia, Colin and Uma were excellent hunters. Their father taught them well. The Zora named Lakea lived off of the plentiful springs while the mighty Songoro feasted solely on stones, the typical Goron diet. Coro contributed greatly to the fellowship with the donations of his cart and horse, though he asked for little in return. For this, Ilia was thankful. Talo was upon his own stallion, one that was a pure, warm golden brown. Colin and Uma both rode upon Estbar, Ilia's steed, their golden locks waving in the cooling winds.

Coro directed the horse-drawn cart while humming a subtle tune to himself. Ilia tilted her head and saw the sleeping Shad, grasping onto Auru's great blade with a ferocious tenacity. Wrapped in a fine cloth, the dead Knight's sword edge still caught the brilliance of the sunset. Poor Shad, thought Ilia with sorrow in her heart. She knew what it was like to lose a close friend. Her thoughts strayed to Aeadis and his brown eyes, his gentle smile, and his strong embrace. Tears suddenly found their way down Ilia's warm cheeks, leaving moistened despair in their wake. The cart hinges creaked and shuddered loud enough to mask the grieving Lady Mayor's sobs.

Her world was set aflame, much like the lands around them. The Black enemy did not scorch all hectares of Hyrule, but the active fires from distant communities could be seen from many a distance away. Despite all this, Hyrule Castle stood tall and defiant. Many Black Ships hung in the sky near the city, but none could be seen directly over it. They were still many leagues away. The sight was unsettling, but the absence of flame denoted that there was a break in the bloodletting that took place. Somehow, the powers that invaded Hyrule and laid waste to its outer fringes, saw fit to preserve the Citadel.

Either way, Ilia needed to reach it. Tightly, she held onto her children, her only family, and prayed to the Golden Goddesses, seeking their protection for the young ones. Perhaps, she reasoned, the enemy would not raze the city and that the Royal Family would surrender peacefully. If that was a way to discourage further violence and aid Ilia in accomplishing her combined task of both defending her group and finding what she sought, then she welcomed it with full grace.

Surrender was never a picturesque option, but the preservation of life exceeds all.

"Are you awake, Lady Ilia?" asked Coro.

"Yes, Coro," said Ilia in the most even of voices she could find.

"The others told me about your husband... I'm sorry for your loss." That topic was clearly an uneasy one, but Ilia fought her inner grief and replied, saying, "No need to apologize, dear friend. He saved our children's lives and I find some respite in knowing that he gave his own life to ensure that."

"You know," Coro began, trying to make normal conversation, "I am worried sick about my two sisters."

"You have siblings?" wondered Ilia aloud.

"Yes," replied Coro, laughing at Ilia's surprise, "Yes, I do. A charismatic bunch they are; business runners like myself." He stopped and then said, "I thought I told you before."

"I'm sorry, Coro, but can't be expected to remember everything, especially in these dark times."

"I understand. My apologies, Lay Ilia." Coro was silent for a long moment then. Ilia decided to end the awkwardness, "What are their names?" asked she.

To this, Coro replied, "Iza, the eldest and Hena, the youngest. I haven't seen them for a long while."

"I'm sure you will see them again, Coro. Just don't lose hope."

"Heh," chuckled the oil merchant, "hope is the only thing we have left. Why would I want to lose it?" The conversation was brief, but the ever-approaching Castle increased their optimism, as the Black Ships had not yet reached the town, nor did they ravage the lands around them. Coro spoke again, "I would also like to apologize for the loss of your elderly swordsman friend."

"I thank you for your consolation, Coro. He was dear to us all."

"I got to know him pretty well over the past dozen years or so," began Coro once more. "Both he and his scholarly companion trekked back and forth through the woods of Faron. The old man was the only human that could stomach my famous broth."

Ilia recalled the stench that arose from Coro's cooking pot and found a great new respect for the man who fell to defend her. She then found herself on the verge of tears, so she asked Coro, "I mean no offence, my friend, but will try to rest for now. We should reach Castle Town by morning if we stay on this path."

"Yes, my lady," said Coro respectfully. He then silenced himself and gazed onward into the redly-tinged sky, praying for it to return to the familiar, friendly blue.

Sleep finally found Ilia, who nestled in with her gently snoring children. Soon, my loves. Soon we live in comfort again.

The morning was swift and so was the red sky above. Ilia awoke to a most horrid sight: Black Ships above Castle Town. How?

"They steamed faster than we could ride," informed Coro.

"How far are we from the gates?" demanded Ilia.

"This is the last stretch, my Lady."

"Goddesses."

Fire fell from the great vessels and lashed downward upon the Central City. As the fiery bolts charged downward, they quickly dashed against nothing and dissipated. Time and time again the concentrated fire traced lines across the skyline of the City, but scored no damage. The City, thought Ilia, is being protected. More fire from the Black vessels in high met the previous results. Still, they persisted. Still, the magical charm that lined the City held. That was a welcome relief to not only Ilia, but the rest of Hyrule. Hope was present.

"Convoy, dead ahead!" Shouted Colin, who rode ahead. Ilia scrambled to the front of the cart, grabbing a nearby spyglass and leaving her awakening children to slowly rise with the red sun. Next to Coro, Ilia stood and gazed far through her visual aid. Indeed there was a convoy ahead of her own group. Ten carts strong and with many horses bound their flanks. Upon these horses were men clad in bright armour and baring many steel weapons. Upon the carts were the Golden Hyrulean Eagle and the Sacred Triforce emblems. If anything, this strange group headed in the same direction was a friendly one.

"Do you think they've spotted us?" asked Coro.

"If we see them, the have most likely seen us a long time ago."

"What would you have us do, Ilia?" asked Colin riding close by. Ilia considered her options, if she had any. Before she could answer, many hands from the neighboring convoy suddenly shot upwards. Colin and Uma's blue eyes also rose. A great shadow enveloped them all. The silhouette of a large mass supported by a pair of webbed wings and commanded by a large feral head denoted one thing: Dragons and their tamers were closing in.

"Ilia?" asked Colin once more.

"Coro, steer us toward that convoy and join them. Colin, tell Talo to ride ahead and warn them of our approach."

"Yes, Ilia," said Colin, who began to veer away.

Coro then reach out and shouted, "Wait, fall back and meet me behind the cart, guy. I have something for you!"

Colin glanced up at Ilia, who nodded, "Make it quick, Coro." The oil merchant handed Ilia the reigns and crawled into the cart. Colin fell back and swiftly rode behind the wagon at full pace. Coro rummaged through his provisions and retrieved a pair or worn, but sturdy recurve hunter's bows and a full compliment of quivers for each. One by one, Coro tossed the arms to Colin, who secured each. With a smile and wave, Coro returned to the front as the golden-haired Colin sped away toward the galloping Talo. Ilia returned the reigns to the former oil merchant and asked, "Where did you get those?"

Coro smiled sheepishly and said, "Have to be prepared for anything in the business world, m'lady."

All Ilia could do was smile back.

This was how the event unfolded before Ilia's eyes:

She watched as both her group and the Dragons overhead steadily approached the speeding line of Hylian wagons. Ilia held her breath as her cart began to roll beside the Royal Wagons without incident.

Then the incident arrived.

Fire from the unholy breaths swam around convoy, though not entirely so. The company that flanked the convoy spread and unleashed an upward hailstorm of barbed arrows. Colin and Uma charged forward beneath the belly of one low-flying Dragon. In a single, swift motion, Colin dismounted from his superior position on Estbar's saddle and allowed Uma to shift forward, taking the reigns. Colin hopped back onto Estbar and readied his new bow. With expert timing, Colin strung and loosened a trio of deadly shafts into the Dragons side. Black blood dripped down onto them as the mighty winged beast rose away. Despite these efforts, Ilia gasped in horror as she saw a firewall of Dragon breath sweep around and consume a pair of Hylian horsemen. The charred remains of the soldiers and their steeds fell behind and away from the speeding convoy. Talo took his own horse on a wide sweep and readied his own bow. His aim was true as his single shaft struck home within the neck of a Dragon Tamer. In time, the man's lifeless corpse was shaken free and crumbled against the passing ground. Ilia could not bear to glance a second time. The unmanned Dragon was not deterred by the loss of its rider. Instead it dove low and belched a ball of flame onto one of the ten carts.

Sensing distress, the flamed wagon veered away and halted as to make way for the remaining wagons behind it. The crew of the doomed wagon rolled free from the wreckage and fled on foot, their garbs clearly aflame. Several Dragons pulled away and swept low upon the hapless survivors. In a quick instant, those on foot not killed by the flames, were run through with sharpened Dragon claws and viciously torn asunder by the predators' teeth. Once more, Ilia could not bare to look as the sky rained blood, however briefly, as the droplets became masked by the lacerated skies.

As the feasting beasts returned, another cart was suddenly aflame. Only this time, the wagon did not stop. Another, larger ball of breath contacted the wounded wagon and engulfed it. The second cart was no more but a pillar of Dragon's rage. Tirelessly, the webbed wings and their bestial riders attempted a third wagon. This time, however, something happened that would leave Ilia in awe.

A single shaft of pure light streaked from the lead Hylian Wagon and pierced the nearest Dragon's heart. With only a whimper, the might scaled beast craned and plummeted downward. It's massive bulk crunched and tumbled lifelessly against the same speeding ground that claimed so many other lives.

A second shaft from the same wagon pierced both Dragon and Tamer, killing both instantly.

A third Dragon met the same fate as the same silvery light caused the beast to find burial within a passing pond. The remnants of its fiery breath creating columns of steam that rose from the disturbed water.

Colin and Talo, as well as the escorting Hylian horsemen, harried the Dragons with more hails of wooden misery. Though Dragon skin was rarely penetrated, the arrows found residence in the vulnerable Tamers, who fell from the reddened sky like black hail.

At last, the deadly scales of the mysterious and mighty enemy accepted failure in their raid and flew away, wounded, beaten.

The skirmish was won and the oaken gates of Castle Town were opened amid the hellfire raining from above. Fortunately, the enemy air ships had not the foresight to concentrate their fire upon the nine large wagons that settled safely into the Central City.

Ilia and her entire group, at last, had arrived to their destination unharmed.

Distressed crowds made way for the nine wagons, welcoming them with cheers and applauds. At the center of the City was the grand circular agora where the Three Golden Goddesses stood, immortalized within the stone fountain that surrounded them. Around the circumference of the market circle, the large wagons halted and their charges dismounted. Soldiers pushed their ways through the assembling curious crowds and forced them back. Ilia rose from her seat and searched for the source caster of the Dragon-slaying arrows. As she jumped down onto the familiar cobblestone, Shad crawled out the back with Auru's sword in hand. Hector and Gira themselves slowly tumbled down and away from the cart. Ilia sought her children and hefted them into her arms. Still, her eyes searched until they fell upon the lead wagon. She studied the occupants as they rose like the rest.

Ilia noted a tall, dark-haired woman with specially crafted armour that fit her slender frame. Her eyes were dark and set with fatigue, but this did not weaken the strength that resonated from her. The Hylian Eagle that was emblazoned upon her chest and saber that hung at her hip denoted to Ilia that this black-haired woman was another Knight of Hyrule. Weary was the sweep of her glance and deadly was the focus in her heavy-set eyes. This was a woman who left many battles behind her. Still, for the veteran's hardening, the dark-haired lady Knight was quite a beauty to behold.

Shad appeared next to Ilia and pointed in the same direction in which she was looking. "Do you see that woman over there? The one atop the lead wagon?"

"Yes," replied Ilia.

"She is a friend of mine and Shad's. She is the one that I need to bring his sword to."

"Is she the-"

"The Watcher of the Archives? Yes. Come, I'll take you to meet her."

Ilia bade Uma near and the young woman acquiesced.

"Uma," began Ilia, "I need you to look after the twins for now. Feed them and protect them until I return."

"Yes, Ilia. When will you be back?"

"Soon, I hope."

At first, the twins were mortified. They did not want to lose their mother again, especially since they had only recently been reunited with her. They kicked, they screamed, the protested in all known manners of protesting. Eventually, Uma enticed them with the notion of playing with little Callie. Eventually, the twins sobs were replaced, though not fully, with the comfort of a kitten's soft fur. Ilia bade her loved ones farewell and promised a swift return. Hector and Gira nodded, defeated and solemn. Callie rolled about, enamored with the attention she received from the twins. At that, Shad and Ilia passed through the crowd toward the lead wagon.

Then, as they approached, a second figure rose, a mysterious one at that.

Tall was the person's stance and toned was the muscle beneath tight blue fabric. This figure, to Ilia was sexless. Being built and toned like a man, yet possessing the agile grace of a woman. White cloth was crudely wrapped around both forearms and knees. Every digit upon each hand was also concealed beneath coiled white. The mystery of this person was deeply seeded by the shawl that covered mouth, nose and chest, leaving bright red eyes that were surrounded by a crown of light blonde locks. Upon the blue-clad mystery was a neatly secured turban consisting of tightly woven cloths not unlike the rest of his or her body.

It was the person's eyes that caught Ilia off guard as the being survey the crowd with infinite patience. Red like the heated flame, yet unlike the bloody skies above, they were full of life and energy.

One thing about this sexless warrior was confirmed in Ilia's mind; and that was the fact that this blue being was indeed, the one that had slain the Dragons from before. This was such as, in the grasping wrist of the mysterious man or woman, was a bright golden bow that sparkled in the gloom. Then, as if the weapon never was, it faded into a shower of golden light particles.

"Who is that?" asked Ilia to Shad. The scholar simply shrugged and said, "Whoever she is, I'm glad she's on our side."

"How can you be sure that it's a woman?"

"I don't know. Intuition, I suspect."

"I never knew men had intuition," joked the Lady Mayor.

As they approached, Ilia could see distinct red markings upon the blue warrior's shawled chest. Unlike the Hyrulean Golden Eagle that was worn by the other soldiers, this figure carried a crimson depiction of a single eye. Suspended from the glyph was a single red teardrop. Shad took a moment and reacted to the sight of the symbol. Clearly, he knew something. Before Ilia could ask, the strange warrior and its womanly Knight companion glance upwards.

Then entire Central City glanced upwards as the Black Ships continued to pour fire onto the invisible shield that defended them. Ilia quickly returned her attention to the unusual pair and noticed that they had dismounted their wagon and began to walk toward the gates of Hyrule Castle. Ilia had almost lost them for the fact that the blue warrior had since donned a black cloak over itself. She and Shad quickly turned their pace and followed in pursuit.

Finally, they broke free of the crowd but their targets were nowhere to be seen. Had they lost them in the confusion?

The tips of blades introduced themselves to Ilia and Shad's backs and a pair of shadows overtook them. None could see the display, as the shadows held their captives tightly before the guarded gates of Hyrule Castle. A voice whispered to Shad's ear, a voice that Ilia heard, "Welcome back, Shad. Who's your friend?"

Shad breathed a tone of relief and said, "You know I hate it when you do that, Ashei." The shadow that enslaved Ilia relinquished its hold and she was free to turn and face it. The two figures that they stalked from the wagons had suddenly and silently appeared behind them. One such shadow revealed itself to be Shad's Knightly friend, the dark-haired woman known as Ashei. Shad wasted no time in introducing Ilia to her, "Dame Ashei, I would like to introduce to you, Lady Ilia of Ordonna."

"Ordonna?" replied the gruff-sounding Knight, "Like Link, then, eh?" The woman Knight extended a gauntleted hand and Ilia took it. With a firm shake, the Lady Mayor was taken aback by both the informal nature of Ashei's speech and the mention of Link's name. She knew Link as well? In a way, this released some of the tension created by formalities and thus aided Ilia to relax. However, the presence of the silent, turban-baring, red-eyed warrior left some ill-ease, simply because he or she remained a mystery behind the shawl.

"Please forgive Ashei's rudeness, Lady Mayor." These were the first words uttered by the blue-clad one. The voice was also gruff, though still ripe with gender-related ambiguity. The warrior stood, arms parted, revealing the Red Eye once more. Shad's eyes widened as he fixed his spectacles. "It can't be...." Ignoring Shad, the cloaked warrior walked on past the gathering, saying, "Excuse me for a moment."

"Shad," said Ashei with her strong voice, returning the scholar back to reality, "I am glad to see you're alive, but what brings you here."

Sadness enveloped Shad once more as he handed Ashei the large cloth which he carried. The Lady Knight took the wrapping and effortlessly hefted its weight. From the cloth rolled Auru's great sword. Ashei simply stared in silence. There were no words needed for whatever the dame felt. Shad and Ilia simply stood in silence with the Knight.

"Ashei," called the ambiguously voiced warrior, "we enter."

"Ashei," said Shad, "Lady Ilia and I wish to proceed into the Archives. That is why we are here."

"Normally, I would deny this, but," the Lady Knight re-wrapped the great sword and carried it single-handedly toward the guarded gate.

"Come with me," she finally said. Both Shad and Ilia followed the swords-woman to the large oaken doors where the blue-clad warrior stood. As they walked, Ilia whispered to Shad, "Who is that warrior?"

"That, Ilia, is a Sheikah. A live Sheikah!" Though Ilia did not understand the reason for the scholar's glee, it was not unfounded. She therefore asked, "And who are these Sheikah?"

"The ancient protectors of Hylia," explained Shad. "They answered personally to the will of the Royal Family, pledging their lives for service. For generations, the red-eyed Sheikah defended the Family until, for events unclassified in the old texts, they were wiped out, clean off the face of Hyrule. The best scholars claim that they were destroyed by a great and ancient war that ravaged the entire land.

Ancient defenders of Hyrule descended into legend? Somehow, this information greatly comforted Ilia with the idea that such a revered fighter was in their midst, on their side of the camp.

There were but a pair of armed soldiers at the grand set of Castle doors. Neither of them permitted the Sheikah warrior through. Patiently, it stood until Ashei arrived with her two charges. The warrior glanced at them, then to Ashei, who nodded. Without a word exchanged, they continued on. "Dame Ashei," said one of the guards, surprised, "We were not expecting you home so...soon."

"It has been five years, friends. Grant us all access, eh? These three are with me."

Ignoring the request, the soldier asked, "Where is the Princess who was placed under your protection?"

The Lady Knight smiled and replied, "She is around, safe. May I pass now with my charges?"

"By order of the Steward, only the trusted Knight may pass." said the soldier, harshly. Ashei glared at the man. The red-eyed warrior said nothing.

Until, "I have no quarrel with you, good soldiers. I simply request a council with the Lord Steward, he who was placed in charge for the absence of the Princess." Ilia noted that the voice was from the warrior and its tone had become slightly more feminine.

"None but the Trusted Knights may see the Steward now, in these dire times."

"Not even the Ruler herself?"

Ilia felt a sudden presence about her. Quickly, she turned and saw that there was a crowd, a large crowd behind them. Activity at the Royal Gates sprang much curiosity, as it seemed. Suddenly, a large host of robed figures parted the sea of people. Large grey hoods hide their faces, but they marched in three files that were ten robes long. Thirty robes altogether marched up the stairs and halted behind Ilia and her group. These robes were as silent as they were still, perfectly so. Before the guards could recover from the display or answer the Sheikah's question, its cloak was cast aside and its turban unraveled to loosen a long, beautiful mass of dark blond hair. The eyes that were red as luminous ancient flames closed and then opened once more to reveal a deep blue passiveness. A bright golden crown embedded with the Hylian Royal Jewels found its way to the pale forehead of Princess Zelda.

Ashei quickly lowered herself to one knee and bent her head low. Shad and Ilia followed suit. Then, eventually, the guards, followed by the mysterious robed figures and the masses around them.

All of Hylia bowed and welcomed their Princess home.

"My Princess," muttered the humbled guards, "Our deepest apologies."

"Rise, noble guards. I do not scorn soldiers who follow orders. Carry on."

"Yes, your Highness."

At that, the large doors creaked open and Zelda strode inward, to her Castle, her home. Ashei, Shad, Ilia, and the thirty robes entered without further delay. Behind them, the crowds erupted into jubilant cheers and festive dance, all in defiance of the Black Ships pouring hellfire down aimlessly upon them.

The arrival of Princess Zelda signified leadership.

The arrival of Princess Zelda embraced defiance to the mysterious Black Enemy.

The arrival of Princess Zelda marked the beginning of hope for all.

Inside the Court, Zelda led her company through the remade foyer. There, she turned to Ashei and said, "Take your friends down to the Archive. Allow them as much time as they need to learn what they will. Afterward, see to it that they are protected from the outside."

"Yes, Princess." Dame Ashei obeyed, but then asked, " Are you sure you do not wish for me to escort you to the Throne?"

Zelda smiled to her bodyguard and replied, "I can handle the Steward on my own. He will have to see me alive before he steps down, anyway." At that, the Princess of Destiny bade her following thirty robes to accompany her up the stairs that rose eventually into the Highest Court of the land.

Ashei led Shad and Ilia down to the Archives. With her authority as the Watcher, Ashei was quickly granted access and not many moments had passed before they reached the Hall of Knights. Upon the walls were names, all burnt into the stone. For generations, the names stretched down. In the section dedicated to the Current Age, names were not burnt, but chiseled into the bare, naked stone. Along the wall were many arms of war, from axes and spears to bows and swords. "These are the weapons of the fallen Knight of the Current Age," explained a sombre Shad. "We now add Auru's weapon to the wall beneath his preset spot of glory."

Ilia saw that not all spots were filled, but many were still.

"We have lost contact with many of Knights in our current roster, according to my aide," said Ashei as she placed Auru's great sword down onto its final resting place. "Being absent for five years only to find your homeland invaded by the neighboring nations takes a toll on you, but the loss of so many Knights is almost unbearable."

Ilia had to ask, "Was there a man named Rech in your current roster?"

Ashei shook her head, "I know all of these men, women, Zora, and Goron by name. None of them were named Rech."

"But," said Ilia, "Auru told me that there was a Hylian named Rech in his roster."

"Auru was among the few to survive and be written onto a second list, my list," replied Ashei.

"Is there any chance," asked shad, "that we could peruse the Archives in search of Auru's original roster?"  
Ashei took a moment and eventually nodded in approval. Shad and Ilia left the Lady Knight to her peace and began their search through the past.

They found it.

"Rech Equaballus of Hylia, Knight of Truth and Servant to the Light," read Shad. Ilia simply stared. The portrait of a young Rech could easily have been passed off as Link, save for the difference in their noses. Shad continued to read the inscription that was coupled with the faded portrait:

* * *

_Born in the land of plenty, the noble Rech was received into the House of Equaballus, or the House of the Noble Horse. Chosen at a young age, Rech became one of the youngest men to ever sign their blood in service of the Royal Family of Hyrule._

_Rech Equaballus of Hylia loved and married the fair Maid Dahlie of the House Remorr. Together, they bore a single son, whom they named Linkse._

_But this is where the romance of the House Equaballus ends._

_In a Dark Time, Maid Dahlie passed away for reasons unknown. Mad with grief, Rech disappeared with his young son in the Hour of Twilight and was never seen again. The Sword of Rech was never found, nor were the remains of his young family._

_The House of Equaballus and its noble line end in tragedy._

_May the Goddesses preserve their memory and protect their spirits on High.

* * *

_

Ilia had found it. The answers she sought lay preserved in the depths of Hyrule for thirty long years and she had finally learned. Rech, the father of Link, though still shrouded in mystery, had a name and a face to put to it. Like Link's, it was a strong, handsome face. Sapphire blue eyes shone through the aged portrait and stared Ilia down.

She suddenly felt weak and leaned against the opposing wall, holding Rech's immortal gaze.

"What happened to him?" asked Ilia to herself.

"I cannot say, Ilia," replied Shad, assuming the question was directed to him.

There was something that struck her about the significance of, The Hour of Twilight. Ilia recalled the great sadness she felt for every hour of Twilight that she had known. All of her life, the sight of that setting sun weighed heavily upon her soul. "They say the lamenting Spirit World mourns loudest at the Twilight Hour," said Ilia.

"I'm afraid that I don't know a great deal about the Spirit World, Ilia," replied Shad, again assuming that the phrase was directed to him. "But I think I know of someone who does know."


	17. In the Fields of Eldin

Author's Note: Did you like my take on Link's family? Slowly, questions are being answered. If you have kept up so far, I commend you. If you are confused at any parts, please message me or just tell my why it's the worst thing you've ever read. If that is the case, how could I have made it better?

Either way, I thank the supporters and thus present:

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen: In the Fields of Eldin

* * *

**

_"From this day to the ending of the world,  
But we in it shall be remembered,  
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers."_

* * *

Link felt helpless and furiously so. Entire days had been spent on his return and each amount of progress came at the price of unforgivable delay. Now both he and his Regal Queen were forced to navigate the near-endless catacombs of mysterious origin. With each passing moment, Link's grief grew, for the Great Sea was beyond the Mountain Cradle, far from Hyrule and Ordon there-within. There was no chance to save Ilia and the others and Link was forced to wrestle with that reality. His deep blue eyes saw nothing but the ground upon which he walked. Behind King Ralis, Link, Midna, Yeto and the battered remnants of the Zora Guard strode. The Royal Zora marched with such authority that even the shadow of the dimly lit caverns appeared to bow in his presence. "My people," began Ralis, "rest by the great subterranean river of Rullatos. They await our arrival." Link did not pay any heed. Midna kept close at his side, her warm hand grasping his.

At last, they reached a great expanse within the cavern. The ceiling above was tall and even bled red sky light from fissures in the rock. The group walked upon an overhanging ledge that oversaw the entire cavern.

As Ralis had explained, the River Rullatos was a mighty stream that branched into pure, calm pools.

Zora. Many Zora, numbering in the hundreds, made camp along the banks of the living waters. For a brief moment, Link was taken by the majesty of the scene. Never before had he seen so many, not even Hylians, gathered so tightly in one location. Zora, old and young, great and small, mingled and conversed among themselves before they took notice of their King watching from above.

Like wildfire, cheers and applauds took wind, spread, and raged into an ovation most jovial.

The Zora King had returned to them, victorious.

"My people!" Exclaimed Ralis. The cheers settles under his mighty voice. He continued, "My people, we are safe and are most deserving of the evening's rest.

"However, I wish to grant a moment of silence for all those brave souls who gave their lives in order to ensure your continued survival. Many Zora at arms, including the loyal General Sal, fell in the name of Freedom. Let us honour them now." At that, Ralis bowed his head. Following suit was his kingdom in beautiful unity. Link and Midna also bowed their heads in respect. In the minutes that passed, Link's thoughts stayed briefly on the fallen before favouring the darkest perceptions of the greater war outside. He worried again for the lives of the Ordonians, praying to the Golden Goddesses for their safety, or rested peace.

Midna continued to hold onto his hand, which aided greatly. He wondered at her ability to feel the souls of others. The dying Noble one that she had perceived on Snowpeak was the last vibration she felt. He had not bothered ask her again, for the idea that she would summon him if she felt anything.

So far, nothing. Did that mean that they were still alive? His thoughts were derailed.

"This bloody day is not without heroes," boomed the voice of King Ralis. _Oh no,_ thought Link.

"Without these friends, my people, this battle would have been lost most assuredly." Excited murmurs resonated from the Zora crowds. "I present to you, the Heroes of the Domain, my friends, my dearest allies: Link of Hylia - and her Majesty Queen Midna of the the Fallen Lands." Ralis bade them forward. Hesitantly, he, Yeto and Midna approached the King's side, breaking their hold. Ralis placed himself between Midna and Link and raised both of their arms to the magnanimous cheers of the Zora below while the Yeti stood valiantly behind them. Link and Midna smiled weakly and bowed slowly to the joyous audience.

Evening settled quickly. Link and Midna stood before King Ralis in a hastily prepared tent that stood upon the overhanging ledge. The red-skinned Zora Guard stood silently about it, suspecting any who passed. This time, in their presence, the Guard relaxed at the sight of the green-clad hero and his beautiful Queen.

"I am deeply pleased to have you back, Link. I am sorry that we did not have time to reflect. Remember that I owe you a great debt of my life, and now I owe doubly that you have aided in the salvation of my people." Ralis smiled warmly between both Link and Midna, his smile resting on the Queen a moment longer.

"You are more than welcome to join us in our society, Hero Link and Majesty, Midna. You will be made an honorary Lord of the Court."

"Sire,"

"Please, Link, it is the least I can do. And Midna, I know that you must grieve the loss of you lands greatly, but..."

Midna tilted her head inquisitively and asked, "But ..?" Ralis clasped his hands together and said, "Gentlemen, warriors, can you please give the Queen and I a moment?"

"Yes, sire," responded the obedient Honor Guard. Link frowned, not enjoying the separation, but he obeyed nonetheless. With no once of gratitude, Link left Midna standing alone, glancing after him.

Link's logical mind caused his illogical feet to pace back and forth outside the tent, while the red-skinned guards watched in silence. Heavy footsteps shot the guards into action as they readied their spears. "Stand down, friends," said Link, "I recognize those steps." Through the passage that led down to the River, a massive white, toothy head emerged. The guards relaxed as Yeto and his wife made their way toward Link. Yeta smiled broadly and said, "Hero!"

Link had no choice but to smile at the little woman of the Snow, "Well, you are surely a sight for sore eyes, my Lady." Link genuinely was happy to see her again. He recalled Yeto convincing his wife to join the lines of Zora refugees to safety. Clearly, neither of them regretted that decision. The two of them appeared content in the one-other's arms. The pain of separation must have been great for both of them, even for a short period.

Link saw Midna emerge gracefully from the flap of Ralis' tent, her chin high and Twilit cheeks rosy, and lips pursed. Joy spread through him at the sight, but was soured by a trailing Ralis, his countenance both humbled and indignant. The Guards did not dare move.

"I'm sorry, King Ralis, but I cannot accept your offer."

Ralis looked pleading, but stern, "Are you certain, my Queen? I cannot promise you the past, but I grant you a marvelous future." Link could not contemplate his own mock confusion. Yeta and her mighty stood motionless as they watched the exchange. "What happening?" asked Yeto.

"Zora King want Hero's mate. Mate has chosen already." Link pretended not to hear what she said.

"I cannot be your Queen, my Lord. I have a prior engagement that I must tend to." Midna, to Link's surprise, took his gauntleted hand and squeezed, "I -we- have a world to save, not only yours."

Ralis glanced downward and smiled, "I see." The Zora King slowly took both of their hands and removed the pendant that hung from around his neck. Gently, he opened their clasped palms and placed the diamond-encrusted coral inside before closing them again.

"Walk with me," said he, quietly, calmly. He left the Honour Guards at their posts.

Link walked with Midna at his side. Ralis walked to the hero's left. Ralis began, "You wish to return to the surface?" Link nodded as the King placed a hand on Link's shoulder, saying, "Not to worry, old friend. You and your lovely Queen can continue to accompany us into the Passage. It coincides directly with the Goron passage."

"Gorons? From Death Mountain?"

"Are there any others? Do you think we grafted these passages on our own?" Ralis chuckled and Link's spirit rose. He glanced at Midna who smiled warmly, sending golden butterflies through his veins.

"If you wait for the morning," said Ralis, "we will guide you to the main intersection."

"Thank you, my Liege."

"No, Link. I am not your King. No one can follow two rulers." Link was silent to Ralis's words, who continued, "And given the choice, I would follow yours as well."

They continued to walk down the corridor and about the sleeping camp. Pale, red moonlight ebbed through the crimson overcast, dimly lighting the cavern. The rushing roar of the Rullatos dominated the soundscape, but not as to disallow casual conversation. "You Hylians and we Zora," whispered Ralis to Link, "have more in common than we think."

"How is that?" whispered the hero back.

"We both have a good taste in those we wish to follow." At this both men chuckled and Midna rolled her sunset eyes, which glowed wonderfully amid the red-tinged darkness.

Finally, Ralis bade them a good night and left them to their separate quarters.

Link lay in his personal tent that was set as far from the River as possible. Sleep was ill-managed and he tossed to find a comfortable position. The fine Zora cottons were not the issue, but Link's own mind. Images of Ralis and his green eyes fixed on Midna inflamed a great passion in his heart; the type that saw the end of many men. He tried to cast the irritating feelings of jealousy aside. He knew that Midna did not choose Ralis, but the idea of that brief, lifeless possibility was etched in his most horrid of fantasies.

Of one thing, he was certain: she must be protected.

_What's wrong with you, 'hero'? _he asked himself. _She needs protection? How can that be when she has performed the unimaginable? If anything, what you are considering should be that you stay and that she leave to fulfill your quest for you._ Link had no choice but to agree on the fact that Midna had actually been able to perform the impossible. Not every person could cause multiple landslides in one moment and still have the energy required to argue with a King in the next.

As he lay alone and sleepless, Link could not take his mind off of her. For thirteen years, he was unable to take his mind off of his Twilight Princess. Now she was with him, but a Princess no more. She was truly a Queen, a regal beauty unlike any other.

With sleep finally on its approach, Link gave a short sigh before succumbing to it, "Midna..." He longed for the morning to hasten as to illuminate her face once more. Warmth engulfed him and he was suddenly aware of another presence in his tent. Link, fully roused, made no indication of his alerted state, but instead reached under his pillow to feel the cold steel dagger that he routinely hid. Slowly, he would tightened his grip on the weapon, ready to strike. Only, the dagger was no longer there.

_Your sword is beneath you, 'hero.' Simply spring and hinder him long enough to grab it._ Link used his free arm to gather the pillow, poised to strike.

_Steady.... Now!_

Link cast the ballistic cushion which the presence deflected with ease. Link quickly reached down to gather his Ordonian Blade and strike down the assassin. As he did, a dark foot pinned his wrist down. Link glanced up, prepared to use his free fist. He was then stunned, not by a spell, but the luminous existence of a familiar fiery pair of sunset eyes. At that moment. he relaxed and rolled onto his back in time for the dark, lean figure to pin the whole of his body down.

This time, he allowed it.

Link could feel the silky sensation of long, vivid hair brush against his face and bare chest. Warm elegant hands clasped his and a small, pointed nose rubbed against his. A voice like an angel sang sweetly into his sharp ear, "Almost had me, human." Soft, moist lips met Link's nose.

Link replied, "For the Queen of Shadow, I expected more... subtlety."

"And I disappoint you?"

"In part, yes."

Midna did not let another syllable slip from Link's tongue before silencing him with her own.

Deep was their first kiss. The stunned Hylian found his arms clasped around her tall frame, locked in immortal passion. Link hands ran cautiously through his Queen's fire-like hair while she ran her own delicate digits through his thick, locks, seeking great comfort in their viscosity. Imperiously, Midna wrapped her legs around her hero's waist and broke their lips apart. Both Hero and Queen panted heavily in their attempt to restore their breaths.

They failed to catch them before reuniting.

Crimson morning came swiftly and Link was not satisfied with its haste. He turned over to his side where Midna lay asleep beside him, her chest rising and falling with the grace of the winds. For a long moment, he lay next to her, wanting nothing more than to bask in that moment forever.

A motion in the tent flaps caught his blue eyes. A small Zora child poked its pale blue head into his tent. A commotion outside forced the child's head back out. Link chuckled and looked back toward Midna-  
-who was no longer there. Panic overtook him as his eyes widened and heart throbbed.

"Missing someone, hero?" asked the playfully devious voice of Midna, who stood at the tent's centre, robed and proper. Link relaxed and rose from his cot. "Yeah," replied he, "but I think I found her." As Link prepared to embrace his Queen, she pointed to the tent's opening and smiled, saying, "I think someone misses us." Link took hold of his faded green tunic and cap as he walked toward the opening. Someone was waiting on the Hylian to rise and greet them. Zora of all ages and sizes were grouped and lined silently to catch a glimpse of Link and Midna. As soon as Link made himself visible, they erupted in thunderous applauds.

Link quickly tried to re-enter the tent, but was halted by Midna, who stood triumphantly next to him. "I can do without the crowds, Midna," Link protested.

"You'll get used to it." retorted Midna, who placed her hands up Link's tense shoulders.

"What do I do?" he asked, dumbfounded.

"Smile and wave, dear." Midna guided Link through the most uncomfortable moment in his life, scorning his Queen for every second of it.

Then, one by one, each family group of Zora approached to offer gifts of nourishment, linens, arts, or a simple thanks,

One by one, the Zora shuffled by the Hero and his Queen on their way toward the Great Sea.

Finally, Link and Midna were graced with the presence of Yeto and Yeta, happily waiting to offer their compliments.

"Hero," trumpeted Yeto's mighty voice, "morning!"

Yeta shuffled up to Link and tearfully said, "We miss you."

"Are you leaving as well, Yeto?"

"Yes, we find new life with Zoras. They make me protector!" The mountainous Yeti appeared pleased with his promotion and acceptance.

"I am glad to hear it," said a genuine Link.

"We will miss you too," said Midna, nodding to the bestial pair. Without any warning, Yeto took a firm hold of Link and gave a tight, crippling embrace. Afterward, he offered a single, massive finger to Midna, who shook it gently. Yeto then swept up his wife and proceeded to carry her along with the Zora column.

Eventually, Link and Midna were left standing by their tents as King Ralis walked up to them and their pile of Zora good.

"My people," said he, "are a welcoming race once you have proven yourselves. You will both be remembered as a light in the Zoras' darkest hour. For that, I can never repay, not in a million kingships and not with all the Rupees in the world."

"I thank you, King Ralis," replied Link with no further envy.

"No repayment is necessary, King," said Midna with a smile. "Take care of your people. Their restored hopes and dreams will keep your kingdom afloat for as long as you care for them."

"I pray that your gods smile upon you, Heroes. Jabu-Jabu most surely does." At that, King Ralis of the Zora, nodded to the pair. One last time did he take the tender hand of the Twilight Queen and place a soft kiss upon it. This time, Link did not stir. Ralis rose from his kiss and extended a finned arm. Link took it without hesitation. Then, the two men hugged tightly. "Goodbye, brother," said Ralis.

"No," replied Link. They separated and Link clarified with, "See you later, dear friend."

Ralis smiled and walked behind his exiled people. Not once did he glance back.

Link and Midna found the Goron Intersection with ease. It was situated under bright torchlight an marked with Death Mountain tribal insignias. One would had have to been blind to miss it. Without a word between then, the pair followed its wide path. Much majesty and care was taken into the Passage network, but the level of scrutiny taken into the Goron Passage was exceptional. Wide and tall was the tunnel. Six large adult Rock Men traveling abreast could stride well along the corridor. The ceiling accommodated the largest of Goron patriarchs with ease.

A passage built by the Gorons for the Gorons indeed.

Many moments passed in silence as Link and Midna walked deeper into the corridor. As they progressed, the Hylian noted the increasing level of heat. "We must be near the mines now," said Midna to Link.

"Oh joy," replied he.

"What's the matter?" asked Midna, "Can't take the heat?"

A distant rumbling was her answer.

"An eruption?" wondered Midna.

"No," answered Link. "Worse."

The rumbling increased and echoed off the cavernous ceiling and thick rocky walls. "Get behind me!" shouted Link. At once, he removed his full lantern and lit it. With the tiny flame flickering, Link suddenly dashed the glass and metal casing against the rocky ground. Burning oil spread across the floor, creating a wall of flame. As the flames licked upward, Link withdrew a single grappling Claw Shot and aimed for the nearest torch brass. With a gasp from Midna, Link took a firm hold of her as they quickly rose across the flames toward the torch that hung well near the tall ceiling.

As they hung, Link and Midna discovered the source of the rumbling: Rolling stone-backed Gorons charged down the corridor at flank speed. As the rollers neared the wall of flame, they halted and unravelled their thick bodies to investigate. Link was amazed at the sheer number of them. At least fifty within the bend of the corridor alone. Another unusual observation of the Gorons was their age. Many of the rock people were small, young children. The rest were full grown, but fractured and unstable. The eldest of the group stomped forward and touched the flames, sniffing the air. His voice, amid the hall, was deafening and as smooth as a volcano eruption, "Burning oil. Brothers, ambush!"

Each Goron planted his feet and stiffened his body to form a wall of impermeable force. For a long moment, Link was stiff, unwilling to move. Eventually, the oil lost much strength, but the Gorons did not relax. In Link's grip, Midna whispered, "Shall we attempt diplomacy, or would you like to dull your blade?"

Link sniffed with amusement, "Diplomacy and angry Gorons don't mix well, but I had to stop them somehow."

"Why not let me halt them?"

"I could not take that risk."

"Oh?"

"Besides, I stopped them, didn't I?"

"Well, can we get down now? I'm getting tired of hanging about."

Link smiled and said, "Okay. On three, ready?"

"Maybe."

"Okay: One...two...oh, _goddesses._" Midna dropped down in front of the stiffened Gorons and presented herself.

"There!" shouted a little Goron child.

"Attack, brothers!" The lead Goron rolled into his mobile self and ground the rock beneath him as he charged forward. Link dropped down from his lofty perch, stored his grapple and held his hands out. The mass of the Goron collided violently with him, but the Hylian remained stout. Upon his feet, Link's Iron Boots held their ground as Link reversed the Goron's motion and tossed his mass uselessly aside. The remaining Gorons stood, shocked that their brother had been so easily toppled. Link clapped his dusty gloves together and stood tall before the rocky host.

At once, all the the remaining Gorons rolled forward and revved their bodies.

"Any more tricks, genius?" asked Midna, unimpressed. Link drew his sword and bore his shield.

"Get ready to run."

Before any Goron charged forward, that same thunderous voice called out, "Brothers, HALT!"

Obediently, the Gorons held their ground and rose to their full heights. The elder that Link tossed stopped next to Link and looked down to the green-clad Hylian and his elegant, oddly-coloured woman standing behind him.

"Only two Hylians in all of Hyrule can stop a charging Goron at full speed. If I am correct, one of them has passed on."

Mayor Bo. Link thought of the old man that guided Sleepy Ordon. Word had reached him many years ago of the mayor's retirement and death. A dear friend to the Gorons and their ilk, Bo had received a burial worthy of a mighty Goron; a final bath of liquid fire at the heart of Death Mountain.

"You are Link, are you not?" asked the humbled leader. The Hylian stored his weapon, lowered his defence, and nodded.

Many apologies were had and many an explanation was passed. Firstly, Link introduced his regal Queen Midna formally to the Goron Tribe of Death Mountain. Feigning ignorance of this race, Midna accepted the Goron's warmest welcomes. As for the leader, his name was Ignuro, the Shepherd of the Unrooted. As they talked, Link learned of a great battle that took place in Goron Territory. The leader spoke of large black ships that floated in an an unholy perpetual red sky. He spoke of concentrated fire, much like that of Goron design within the Mines, that traced deadly arcs across the ground, leaving only charred ground where proud Gorons once stood. Ignuro then spoke of winged beasts and legions of black-armoured beast men flooding into the canyon from all sides. The young and broken before them were those unfit for battle. The purpose of the journey was to relocate as far from the war as possible.

"All you see, Brother," said Ignuro, "is the future of the Goron Tribe."

"Much like the Zora," said Link with darkness to his voice.

"The Zora?" asked Ignuro. "What has become of them?"

"They are safe in the shelter of the Great Sea," replied Midna. A sigh of  
relief was exhaled from Ignuro, as well as the sitting Gorons that could hear.

Link's eyes ran across each rocky face that bore the same mauve eyes and blank expressions. "They are all so young," remarked Link.

"Only the young and the broken art among us now, brother."

"And the fit?"

"As we speak," said Ignuro, solemnly, "the warriors of our proud Tribe fight to the bitter end in both Kakariko Village and within the halls of our steel mines."

Once more, panic struck Link. He leaned to Midna and asked, "If they are flooding in from all sides, how can we by-pass them to reach Ordon?"

"I don't know, Link. I just-" she stopped.

"Midna?" asked a concerned Link?

"I can feel them now," said she.

"Who?"

"My Twilit Knights," muttered Midna with a smile upon her visage, "they are engaging the enemy as we speak. They are close."

"Of what does she speak, brother?"

"Captain Darsek..." said Link, half-answering the Goron's query.  
"Brother Ignuro," began Link, "is there passage to the surface?"

"Yes," replied Ignuro, "the old path to our secondary mines connects and exits with the entrance near the Great Bridge of Eldin. All paths leading to Death Mountain, however, have been demolished and sealed. The only access is by foot through the Kakariko Canyon, which is overrun by the Black Beast men."

"Thank you." replied Link. "Is it close by?"

"Yes, only a kilometer down. You cannot miss it," said Ignuro.

"Thank you for your help, brother."

"Anything for a Brother, brother." At that, the line of Gorons tightened their bodies and charged forward in single file down the remainder of the Passage. Link and Midna wished them well on their journey before rushing to the secondary Goron mine and to Eldin Province.

It was mid-afternoon by the time Link and Midna had reached the main entrance to the secondary Goron mines. Like Ignuro had said, the deeper passages to Death Mountain had been sealed shut and the only way out was up.

Fresh air greeted them at long last. The sun was high in the blood-red sky and the Great Bridge of Eldin spanned across the wide chasm below. From their position above the main road, Link and Midna stared long and hard at the fields that lay in the distance across the Bridge.

In the sky hung a single Black Ship of the air. From its many spouts poured concentrated fire that scorched the earth. Many winged Dragons dove down, but few rose again. Midna smiled at what Link first perceived to be solid shadow. Only, this shadow consisted of many stirring units, each grasping a sword, axe, or lance.

It was clear to Link that what he saw was not shadow, but Twilight. What he saw was the Twilight Queen's own Shadow Cavalry, her noble six-hundred lancers. At this, she was pleased.

"Shall we?" asked Midna to Link.

Link nodded and drew his Ordonian Blade as he and his Queen climbed down to meet the Bridge.

Before they could cross, Link halted and said, "I have an idea."

Reaching into his pack, Link withdrew a white wooden item in the shape of a horseshoe. Pressing his lips to the object, Link blew and a sweet, high melody flowed from its twin bells.

There was a long silence as Link stored the instrument away. Midna placed her hand upon her hero's shoulder and said, "I'm sorry Link, but at this time I don't know if-"

A distant neighing echoed through the canyons, like the oncoming rumble of the rolling Gorons in the corridor. Then came a most happy sight: Epona, the aged mare, galloping toward her master. Link smiled and patted his companion. Without another delay, Link mounted his steed and offered a hand to Midna, who shook her head in disbelief and took it.

"Hang on, my Queen. We ride. Hyah!" Link spurred his mare and she took off like a young stallion, ponding hard against the old stone of the Great Bridge.

Without fault, Epona took them into Eldin Province and into the rolling green field. Link halted her atop the tallest crest of the largest hill. There, both he and Midna saw a most stunning sight.

* * *

Twilit Shadow, in the form of six-hundred men from a forsaken realm, rode against greater darkness.

Mercilessly, they cut into the fray before them, never losing a single soul.

Upon steeds of Darkness, they rode, these Brave Six-Hundred. Against fire, ash, quiver and bow.

The enemy upon the very ground they tread, was numerous and vile. However, for as great their number may have been, their wills and reactions were slow, untrained against the realm of magic.

The Twilit Knights of the Realm cut deep into their darkly armoured foe.

With a wide, arcing sweep, did the Knights route the first lines of enemies brought forth from distant untamed lands.

In the sky above them hung a great vessel, a Black weapon of the Mistress that bristled with many spouts with which to bathe the world in fire and brimstone. Such technology was no match for the combined magics of the Twili.

With their minds as one, just as their axes and lances, the Twilit Knights took a firm hold of the Behemoth in the bloody red sky. With the force of a thousand giants, the Noble Knights brought down the mighty Black Vessel and dashed it against the chasm walls below.

Like the fire that spewed from its many nozzles, the Vessel bled angered heat and misery.

Like a shell struck in the weakest area, the Black Ship crumbled and was aflame; burning like so many tracts of land in its wake.

Dragons most unholy, scarred the crimson sky with their wings, razor-like.

Like the predators they face, the Twilit Knights take down the hunters with ease and without mercy.

The winged foes are brought down and run through, their fiery breath glancing ineffectually off of the defensive spells cast by the Realm.

Blessed are they, who swim through the fires of Hate and skewer the offensive swine at its source.

No Dragon was left alive on that eve.

No Black Ship hung imperiously.

No Bestial soldier shared a single breath.

The Fields of Eldin were, for a time, cured of the sickness that was the Mistress of Four.

* * *

Link rode Epona into the host of Twilit Knights. Very much aware of their Queen's presence, the armoured Twili lowered their lances and blades. The largest of the Twilit company rode toward the Hylian, his beaver raised and a mark of indifference upon his face.

This was Captain Darsek, the commander of the Twilit Knights of the Fallen Realm.

The two men, one of Light, the other of Twilight, nodded to one another in acknowledgment.

"Captain Darsek," said Midna, "report."

"My Queen," the Mistress and her forces are spread wide and far. We have engaged them in the South and in the East, by the Hylian Lake with little trouble."

"Very good, Captain," replied Midna, who placed a hand on Link's shoulder, "Darsek, this is Link of Ordon, the lands to the South."

"Ah, the Hero of Twilight. Your name is blessed in our homelands, my Lord." Darsek extended an armoured hand to shake that of Link. Stunned by the level of his fame, Link took the Twili's arm and shook vividly. He then asked, "Have you sustained much loss, Captain?"

"Unfortunately, we have lost a few brave souls, but worse still is that our actions were not swift enough to safeguard many villages along the area. The village to the South, your Ordon, is no more than fire and ash." Link bowed his head in resentment for Darsek's accurate depiction. The man was efficient, but even efficiency had its personal limits. Darsek clearly saw the distress in Link's composure and added, "I am grieved at your loss. If it is any consolation, my Lord, our scouts located a small traveling group departing the area two days ago. Despite their distance, they were being pursued. My company and I ensured their trailers were halted permanently." Link grinned at the Twilit Captain's efficiency once more as the Hylian asked, "Do you know where they were headed, o Captain?"

"They flew North, along the Eastern path."

"You followed them?"

"I did," replied Darsek, "along with half of my company. The rest cleansed the South of any remaining enemy formations."

"Did you catch their final destination?" asked Link.

"Yes, my Lord. They joined forces with another traveling group, an official convoy from the Royal Family. There, they were ambushed by Dragon units, but, surprisingly, fought them all off with the loss of two Royal wagons."

"Not the Southern group?" Link had a be sure.

"I am positive, Lord. An ancient an powerful magic defends the Central City. Thus far, Mistress Black Ships have been unsuccessful in penetrating the charm." Darsek pointed across the horizon where many Black Ships of the air orbited around the Royal Castle, tracing lines of fire across an impermeable force field. To Link, somehow knowing Ilia and his old friends were safe in there left a moment of peace to transpire in his heart.

"Are you satisfied, Link?" asked Midna.  
"Unless the Captain has a reason to fib, I take comfort in the knowledge that at least a small group from Ordon had successfully escaped the clutches of Black death.

"What is thy bidding, my Queen?" asked Captain Darsek.

"Does the Mistress still lay siege to Kakariko, Captain?"

"With all due respect, my Queen, the Mistress has overrun and burned the Canyon Village to the ground."

"Do they hold the mines?" asked Midna.

"No, my Queen. The Gorons are barely holding onto their final ounces of defiance."

"I don't know," puzzled Midna, "what do you think, Lord Link?" The green-clad Hylian reared Epona, nearly forcing Midna off. As the mare came down, Link had drawn his Ordonian Sword. He spoke loud and clear, "We ride to Kakariko and to Death Mountain!"

"You heard the man, Captain." called Midna as Epona dashed toward the narrow canyon that lead to the alkaline grounds of a region besieged. Captain raised his Twilit blade in the air and called out in his people's ancient tongue, a cry of glorious war.

The ground then shook under the shadowy steeds of the Twilit Knights and their Forsaken Queen, who held on to her Man of Light.

He too, rode onward to make glorious war.

* * *

Author's Note: Okay, so we know that war is NOT glorious, but that word fits so well.

I do have a question for you, as I was writing this on the fly: which was a better method of orating the sequence of a battle?  
Shifting from personality to personality, offering detailed motions?  
Or an overall observation with a poetic twist?  
Or both, Like the Iliad? YOU Decide!


	18. Greater Significance

**Chapter Seventeen: Greater Significance**

* * *

_"O sleep, O gentle sleep,  
Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee,  
That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down  
And steep my sense in forgetfulness?"_

* * *

Ilia handed Shad a curious glance. Then she asked, "Do you mean someone who can contact the Spirit World?" asked Ilia.

"Yes," said Shad, "and she lives in the City." Then there was silence.

The torchlight flickered as Ilia's motionless pose danced across the Archive walls. She watched quietly as Shad returned to his duty and struggled to place Auru's great sword upon its dusty vacant pedestal. Lined along that wall was the endless series of arms that were once possessed by past generations of the Noble Thirty. Slowly, as Shad struggled to manage the old man Knight's weapon, Ilia turned to gazed upon the empty space that belonged to the Sword of Rech: Link's father, Rech. The names of Linkse, Rech, and Equaballus swung seamlessly in Ilia's mind, forcing their truth into her soul, leaving only angst in their wake. She found it more difficult to fathom Link's true name of Linkse, rather than to pronounce it. The soft serpentine termination of that name was a contrasting variation to what Ilia had grown to love as harsh, yet meaningful. Linkse was a name befitting of a Lord, a Noble! Not a farmer's hand. Not the humble rider she fell in love with. As far as Ilia was concerned, 'Link' was the young man's proper title, despite the truth carved in stone before her eyes, tinted of emerald pine.

There was an abrupt clanging as Shad managed the weight of the large sword, securing it upon iron clasps. Ilia turned to face the interruption and saw that Lady Ashei was standing next to the archeologist with a single gauntleted fist wrapped around Auru's sword handle, effortlessly setting the weapon into its final resting place. Shad appeared both greatful and humbled, though never indignant. The Lady Knight passed glances between both Shad and Ilia before saying, "I'm sorry for interrupting, but I am needed upstairs and I cannot leave you two alone, unattended."  
"But," began Ilia. She wanted to stay. She wanted to learn, if not only stare at the portrait of Rech and his likeness to he whom she loved. So similar was Link to his father that she swore that the mercurial, yet faded sapphire eyes that stared lifelessly back, belonged to the young hero himself. She wanted - no - she longed to learn more of the lost Noble Rech and the prodigal son, Linkse.

_Linkse_....

Her protest was ignored.

Ashei said, "We must leave. Now."

The company of three rose quickly up the stone stairs leading into the Throne Room. Ilia's footsteps echoed like the past she was leaving behind. She did not know what event was transpiring, but she paid no heed to them. She simply followed as she always followed. There was still enough caring in her heavy heart on the matters around her to spirit her up those many cold and unforgiving steps. Ilia considered her own fortune at the discoveries she made. Was it enough? Perhaps she would never learn the answer to that query. She decided to be greatful. Greatful for the chance to edify her soul, to learn of her love's past, to learn from it. It was then that she decided to focus on the present, her most pressing responsibility.

She instead decided to focus squarely on that which she loved even more than her own life and love for the lost son of a dead Nobleman. She knew the her children, her little Hector and Gira, in the company of Colin and Uma, as well as the friendly Songoro and Lakea, were the highest of her priorities. She longed to see them again.

Still, there remained that minute, unquenchable thirst for placation.

Linkse: His past was learned, with Ilia's light shed upon it.

But what of his present? His future?

She then pondered the words of the old woman in her vision. Was it truly Link's past that she needed to discover? What significance did it have to her own future, and that of Hyrule?

So many questions plagued Ilia's mind. They only served to heighten her desire to be reunited with her loved ones once more. She longed for the simplicity of motherhood.

Ilia had never considered the honour that was given to her within the Castle. Being present in the Hyrulean Royal Throne Room reaffirmed her standings. Lofty was the ceiling that was laced into silver and gold.

Velvet was the rug that ran along the lengthy floor while stone and marble lined both wall and column.

Weaving a delicate, frozen waltz above the white Throne were the Golden Goddesses, so named: Din, Nayru, and Farore. The Creators. As Ilia stepped cautiously into the expanse that could occupy a thousand spearmen, she gazed in wonderment at its beauty and power, ornate. As her green eyes traced downward from the endless heights of the silver ceiling, Ilia's gaze was arrested by a sight most unsettling.

Before the White Throne stood a tall man of regal wear. About him were many men, armed and armoured, poised against the figures that stood before them.

Princess Zelda, clad still in the guise of the Lost Sheikah, stared frigid daggers in the direction of the regally-clad man.

"What's happening?" asked Ilia to the scholar at her flank.

"This is the Steward of Hyrule, the Holder of Justice in the absence of Her Royal Majesty," informed Shad. "He appears to be refusing to cede the return of Princess Zelda and her place on the Throne. An audacious denial on the Steward's part, I am sure." The tall man in royal garb bore an expression of equal distaste for She who was absent.

He was a handsome man with dark, dark hair that dangled gracefully from modest headdress to broad, silken shoulders. Within his grey eyes, there was the sharpest of anger, yet with fear beset behind it. The number of men at his side nearly doubled that on Zelda's own. Among the Princess's camp were a dozen silver-clad Knights, including Lady Ashei herself among them. Many a loyalist pikeman stood steadily by. Among these of loyal blood, stood also the mysterious thirty robed figures that arrived with Zelda earlier. Before Ilia could ponder any further questions, the royal mouth of Zelda spake, saying, "Stand down, Steward Gibbrael." The strong voice of Zelda was contrast to her elegantly frail appearance, "Stand down and let the people have their Princess once more."

"The people," answered the deep voice of the one known as Gibbrael, "seek a leader who is present in times of crisis, my good Princess. I am that leader."

"You have performed admirably, my Steward, but the time has come to step away  
and call your loyal blades to ease."

"I apologize, my Princess, but I cannot acquiesce."

"I fear that you do not find my position persuasive, Steward?" asked Zelda with a curve to her lips.

"With great sincerity, Princess Zelda, I hereby authorize my complete ruling of Hyrule as her new King. There are no words that can be orated in any tongue that can persuade neither me not my men to cede the Throne, even to your fables rhetoric, my Princess."

Zelda's smile did not fade as she motioned toward the robed thirty. "I think that you will find my allies, dear Gibbrael, to be quite moving."

At once, the thirty figures lowered their hoods and washed the Throne Room with the intense glow of their vibrant golden eyes. Thirty men and women in all, focused their eyes onto the defiant Steward and his armed host. As their focus was gold, so were their heads bare, neglecting any presence of locks or curls. Each man and woman of Golden eyes carried pointed ears and no hair to veil them. Their skin, pure and white, appeared as one with the brilliance.

Ilia looked curiously onto Shad, whose jaw fell widely and wholly open, mimicking the reactions of the Steward and his guard.

"The Leer," explained Shad.

"The Leer?" asked Ilia.

"The ancient practitioners of the Life Magics." responded the scholar.

"And Life Magics are...?"

"The source of all magic comes from life, evidently." Said Shad in a tone most indignant. Still, he continued, "The Leer, since the beginning of Time, had mastered control over the qualities of both Life and Magic, the purest form being Life Magic."

Ilia could say nothing, as the frozen stares of the defiant Steward and his guard prompted them to abandon their arms and cease their resistance.

"Whoever they are," said Ilia, "they are very well to be our allies. For that, I will not question them or their nature."

"If they can clear resistance without any blood being shed..." wondered Shad aloud,

"Then maybe they can end this war," concluded Ilia, who suddenly longed for her children.

As the defiant Steward let slip his sword, so did his guard follow suit. At that, Zelda's Knights worked quickly to secure them and see Zelda safely to her White Throne.

"Many good graces to you, O Princess of Destiny." The collective voices of the Leer resonated through the Silver Halls, sending shivers up the Lady Mayor's spine. The gleam of their golden eyes faded into a pale, stirring cream that held no pupils or colour of any sort. Simple and pure were those thirty pairs of glassy pools that once shone brightly.

"Thank you, my friends, O Practitioners of Life," received Zelda as she sat down. With a flick of her delicate wrist, she became shrouded in a swirl of vibrant light.

When the light faded, Zelda was a Sheikah no more, but a lovely young woman clad heavily in the lightly toned garb of the Royal Family. Golden plates crested her regal shoulders while the red hot pigmentation in her eyes cooled into a deep oceanic blue once more.

Princess Zelda was not seated for long. There was much to be done and she hurriedly paced beyond the Leer, beyond her most loyal Knights, only resting her sapphire eyes upon Ilia and the scholar for a brief moment before saying, "Lady Mayor, please accompany me."

Taken aback, Ilia stammered her words, "Yes, Princess." Stunned still by the ruler's resonating transformation and beauty, Ilia considered her most modest of positions and blindly obeyed the honour of accompanying Zelda. To where she led them became increasingly obvious. The large marble balcony that overlooked the curious crowd below amid the Central Fountain stood higher than Ilia felt comfortable to estimate, yet Zelda, crowned and beautiful, leaned over its ledge as to be seen by all below.

"Look!" shouted one below.

"Is that?" attempted another.

"Can it be? Is it really true?" Yet another doubted what he saw. Curiosity swelled throughout the packed crowds. Zelda held her tongue until every pair of eyes was transfixed upon her.

Then she spoke, "My people! O my besieged people of Hyrule! I have returned to thee!"

The crowd stood shocked and uncertain now that their eyes found the source of their previous genuflect.

"This is no farce, my children!" urged Zelda, "I have returned!" At that, Zelda held out her delicate hand behind her, allowing Ashei to place her ornate Royal Blade within it's open palm. With fierce resolve, Zelda held the weapon up on high, allowing it to glimmer in the high sun. The crowd then understood that the woman was, indeed, theirs.

Triumphantly, the masses rose in cheer and song as Zelda opened her arms to fully receive her welcome. After five years of absence and nearly a week of War against a masked enemy; after the earth beneath them crumbled and burned while ships and Dragons on high scorched the living below, the return of the Princess of Destiny aided in the return of both spirit and defiance.

All, as it seemed, was to be well.

Ilia, still, could not comprehend the reason for her accompaniment of Zelda upon the balcony when the Princess held the heart of the masses. While She of Destiny warmed their hearts with orations of her travels and promises of ultimate victory, the Lady Mayor of what was once Ordonna, searched the thousands of faces, hungry for a sign of those most familiar.

She found them at last, as she left them, by their tattered wagon. For it was the mighty Songoro and the lovely Lakea standing above the crowd that caught Ilia's green eyes firstly. Then it was brave Colin standing guard over his sister Uma who followed. Uma sat along the wagon's seat with both Hector and Gira at her flanks. The young girl's eyes left not the twins for a moment. As they sat, the twins nibbled curiously upon bright red apples. Ilia's heart sang with joy at the placation of her children that she longed to hold once more. She turned to leave, but suddenly felt a soft hand upon her shoulder. It was Zelda and her gentle gaze.

"You shall see them soon, Lady Mayor."

"May I ask how you know of me?" asked a genuinely curious Ilia.

"Voices speak and I listen. Ordon was a fine place and I wish for my people to honour the loss of yours. I wish to honour those brave few who set their own lives on the brink to aid those of my company."

The heart of Ilia sank at the memory of pain and loss in the South. With her entire resolve, she fought the ascending tears.

"I thank you, Princess," was all she could muster.

"You and your company are welcome to stay in the Castle. If not, all of this  
city is safe, for as long as there is a will to live, these magical barriers will keep those Black Ships at bay." Zelda pointed toward the bloody sky where the Black  
Vessels hovered in wait, their burning spouts cooled. Ilia nodded as to accept the offer. Then Zelda pulled the young woman next to her upon the balcony where the ledge hung high. Despite Ilia's fear, she stood as tall as she could next to the taller Zelda.

"People of Hyrule," began the Destiny Princess, "I present to you, Lady Ilia of the fallen land of Ordonna!"

The crowd responded with asinine cheers.

"With wisdom and compassion, she led the few fighting survivors from that Southern land to the safety of our Castle Town. All the while, these brave souls of Ordon assisted my soldiers greatly in the salvation of my company, thus ensuring our complete return to you."

More cheering, jovial and unrestrained.

"Let now, honour not only the courageous fallen of the Ordonians, but the many who lost their lives to this deadly War."

Silence, most honourable.

"This War, my people, this War threatens to end all life and freedom within these most fertile lands. From the air, these Black Vessels and cursed Dragons rain fire while from the ground hoards of masked Beast Men raid, pillage, and kill the innocent.

This shall not stand!"

Cheers once more, angered and passionate.

"I ask you now, my people. I ask you for your trust and your loyalty in our darkest hour. Are you like Lady Ilia and her company, possessing the will to fight, but more importantly, the will to live?"

Cheers! Glorious exhaltations!

"Do I have your fellowship? Do you accept me as your Ruler once more?"

"**WE DO**!"

Zelda's deed was done and her voice due. With a powerful upward thrust of the Royal Blade, the crowd cheered and Zelda stepped away with Ilia in tow. Then the Princess said to her, "find your family and bring them here where they will be safe."

Ilia had to ask, "Why us? We both know that you single-handedly stopped that Dragon raid."

"I will explain later. Please hurry."  
Ilia hesitated only for a moment before turned and walking away. Toward the main oaken gates she withdrew, Shad the Scholar followed close behind in the Lady Mayor's wake.

* * *

The tallest of the Leer found his way to Zelda's side. He said, "The Mistress has undoubtedly tracked the children to the City. If she arrives -"

"If she arrives, my friend, it will be to personally dispatch of them. Then, she will be vulnerable to us."

"This plan, if it succeeds, your Highness, this War will end. However, if we fail -"

"Then we will have handed Hyrule to her on a silver platter. I know," replied Zelda solemnly. "You and I have chosen our fates; mine in defying her and you in betraying her. I just wish that the girl's family was spared this foul destiny."

"So it is written, so it shall be done."

"I do not believe that."

"As a Princess of Destiny, it is difficult to accept the necessity of what must be done when nothing else can be done."

Zelda simply sighed, as though she was defeated, saying, "There is always another way."

"For the sake of those children, my Princess," said the Leer, "I pray that you are correct."

The wise pair paced slowly as the Noon sky, red as a deep wound, began to deepen with the onset of Twilight.

* * *

Author's Note: The plot thickens. How was my introduction of the Leer? They are a mysterious bunch whose light will be revealed in later tales, I assure you.

Darkness, placid darkness this way comes.


	19. Lament of the Mountainside

**Chapter Eighteen: Lament of the Mountainside**

**

* * *

**

"What is the noble truth of suffering? Birth is suffering, ageing is suffering and sorrow and lamentation, pain, grief and despair are suffering."

* * *

The Sun was high over the opposing alkaline walls near Kakariko. Its light, furious and sweltering, wove into the dusty pass leading into the conquered village beyond. A sea, a black sea of Men, clad in darkened armour and bearing pairs of malicious amber eyes, shuffled quickly forward, deeper into the Pass. Never did they halt, not even to rest, in their inexplicable campaign of blood. These strangers to Hyrule, these enemies of the Free, marched relentlessly on.

There was one final item required to ensure the total capitulation of the Eldin Way. A last bastion, the refuge of the Rock Men was their mines; their endless, churning cuts into the mountains.

They would break, of course. Under the pressure and hatred of these Strangers, the Gorons saw no hope. Without relent, the Black Beast Men pressed the ever-shrinking lines of the Goron defenders, who fought admirably. Like rock and stone, they resisted the bestial nature of their foe. Like tremors, they roused the earth. They charged the enemy. However, as the saline crest strikes feebly against the sea cliff, so did the igneous giants of Eldin splash ineffectually against the waves of Beast Men.

Beneath the many feet of the vile hoard, many dead lay, trampled and lost. Kakarikan men, women, children and Goron alike were but mere crests and valleys only to be crossed by the armies of the victorious Mistress.

Against so merciless a foe, the proud and peacefully potent people of Death Mountain fought. They intended to war to the bitter end.

And the end was nearing.

Such were the standings before the former Hero of Light rode his loyal mare over the last green Eldin hillside.

Behind him, clutching tersely to his strong chest was his Queen of Twilight, possessing both power and beauty beyond measure.

Behind her, upon steeds of darkness, rode the Queen's Noble Six-hundred: Her Majesty's Twilit Knights of the Realm.

Before this mighty company, was the Black host belonging the Mistress of Four.

Before them, was death awaiting.

Link spotted the dark titanic mass of beings as tall as Hylian men. Into the mouth of the mountainous pass, these enemies flooded. Not unlike the bestial host he slew within the Zora Domain, these many Strangers were crude, but dangerous. Their individual masses were rippled with sinewy muscle and their eyes shone a defiant amber, even from his distance.

The more Link counted of the numbers he faced, the more he would consigned to cut down. He suddenly felt Midna's arms that were around his waist and their increasingly tight grip. Her tall head found rest upon Link's shoulder and her sweet voice echoed through his pointed ear, "I'm with you all the way, my hero." Warmth, like the spring breeze, flooded through him.

As they neared the occupied mouth of the Kakariko Pass, Link bent forward, low to his mare called Epona. With his own, soft words, Link urged her, "Trust me, old friend." The former Hero then turned to his Twilight Queen and said, "Midna, take Epona's reigns. I shall ride behind you."

"You want to switch now?" asked a startled Midna.

"Do you trust me, my Queen?"

Midna leaned and placed a tender kiss upon Link's cheek before wresting the leather reigns from, his heroic grasp. Link smiled and stood, shifting his entire self over to one side of his saddle. Midna, with ease, slid forward to occupy the rider's position. Link then threw his weight over once more and settled down behind Midna, Ordonian Blade in hand.

Glancing back to the Twilit Knights in tow, Link raised his sword above his head, shouting, "FOR THE TWILIGHT!"

Cheers, deep and coated with angst, rose eminently from the Riders.

Ahead, the Black Beast Men of the Mistress found themselves alerted to the thundering of a single horse riding from the North. The many who were last to enter the Kakariko Pass turned to face such a noise. Indeed, there was a single horse, occupied by armed Hylians, no doubt. Even with sword in hand, such a rider could have been taken down with the strength of the Black lines. The Beast Men of the Mistress of the Four Directions chortled at this foolish challenge.

Then they witnessed the shadowy maelstrom following in the Hylian rider's dusty wake.

With guttural growling and fierce indifference, the Beast Men held their ground, spears in hand, shields braced. Their amber eyes narrowed and their sharp teeth from behind metal masks barred. Entire columns of Blackness countermarched to challenge the Light.

Then, contact.

A single swipe from Link's sword saw the severing of one enemy's head and the ending of its life. Despite the barbs and shafts of the Black Foe, Epona wove instinctively between them to deliver her master and his love through the lines.

Another slash opened the chest of another soldier, cleaving his armour and spear alike.

Deeper and deeper did Epona ride into the bloody haze until they were overshadowed by the collective darkness cast by the Twilit Knights, whose wrathful arms laid waste the to numbers before them.

Beneath their feet, the vengeful Twilight trampled the snarling columns, hacking and hewing, all without a single curse between them. Link noted the silence with which the Twilit Knights carried through with their skillful slaughter. Captain Darsek rode along side his Queen and was easily distinguishable from the rest of the Rider host by the presence of his unique helm baring the large, pixelated plume of a Twilit Karagok. Against the dust and the funneled winds, the large black ornamental plume coiled and writhed like the bodies the Captain left behind. Swiping left and right, flank to flank, Link and Darsek, as well as the Twili about them, wove their blood-stained ways into the Black hoards. Around long bends that curved majestic distances, Link and the Twilight pushed and cut until the Kakariko Gate was, at last, in sight.

Broken was the Gate's steel frame. Upon barbed spikes, severed heads of the innocent bled and dried in the dusty heat. The Gate that was once black and firm was freshly coated and crooked: a sight ill-fitting of any liberator.

The canyon village of Kakariko, as Link recalled it to be, was no more. Like the charred residue of Ordon, Friendly Kakariko burned. The quivering flames rose high and the thick, resulting smoke rose higher, blocked only by the sheer height of the Eldin Mountain range. Link's mind paused only for a short moment outside the Death Mountain Pass before telling Midna to stop entirely. The Twilight Queen pulled Epona's reigns and the mare obediently trotted to a halt. Around them, the Twilit Knights relented, awaiting their Queen's command.

Midna gazed back to Link and asked, "Any suggestions, hero?"

Link nodded, saying, "We need to divide our strength. Darsek and a number of his men will accompany us to the aid of the Gorons while the rest of his Riders continue to sweep the Way and break the invasion below."

Midna nodded in return and glanced toward Captain Darsek. The large Twili guided his dark steed toward the pair, removed his plumed helm and asked, "Orders, my Queen?"

"First, a question, Darsek."

"I will answer to the best of my being, my Queen."

"How many Knights would you require to break the back of a siege?"

"If they persist with these feeble units, my Queen, then I would judge less than half of your current force."

"Very well," said Midna, pleased, "You will choose your men and assist Link and I in the salvation of the Gorons. The rest will kill the remaining Mistress soldiers they encounter within the Province."

"It would be our honour, your Highness." Darsek made a respectful bow and turned to face his Riders. In a tongue that Link could not fathom to comprehend, Darsek shouted powerfully.

At once, the mighty Host divided unevenly with the lesser numbers rallying behind Epona and the greater numbers continuing to ride into the burning village with sword and spear in hand.

Link and Midna rode with Darsek and his small force about them. Beyond the natural archway that was the entrance to the Goron Pass, was a high wall that Link expected he and Midna to climb. Instead, what was found both shocked and unexpectedly convened the former hero. Instead of a tall, nigh-impassable wall, there was a large earthen ramp that lead smoothly upward to the next level. Beyond that level, distant cries of war and murder were spilled.

Without further hesitation, Epona charged upward, crossing the ramp with ease. The Twilit Knights followed suit.

What Link and Midna saw when the high level was reached, was a sight that sank even the heart of the steeled Link.

Lined along the walls of the mountain path, were the spent corpses of once mighty Goron warriors. Like boulders, they lay as Link and Midna trotted wearily by. Like waste, the noble fallen mountain-dwellers were swept the the side to make way for the larger body of enemy soldiers to march through and besiege the survivors.

Though similar in appearance, Link recognized the warriors he once challenged and earned respect from. Sour was his expression at the loss of his brothers. Dark was the fate of the Mistress, as Link promised to both himself and his Queen Midna.

Link promised to begin with the men he killed and will eventually kill.

He promised to make them suffer greatly.

Just ahead was the Black-clad Enemy, laying siege to the Goron Mines. Epona's cautions trot melded into a quick advance and eventually a full charge, regardless of the debris. The old mare, skilled in the ways of war, carried her charge into the backs of the unsuspecting Mistress forces. Link, Midna, and Darsek's two-hundred bellowed aloud in the art of War. It was then that the Black Beast Men turned, distracted from their efforts. A large, unified sea of bestial savages thrashed like angry waves against the solid walls of the Gorons' fortress-like industry. Despite the success of the Mountain Dwellers in their defence, a great many foes had carved and blown their own  
paths into the walls and were flowing freely into the gaps.

Link and his force charged into the rocky valley and into the enemy.

A single swipe from Link's blade cast down a single foe while Darsek and his company began to spear their way into the heart of the siege in order to end its life.  
Filled with fury, Link descended from Epona and began slashing his way into the Goron Mines. Even though the former hero lost the advantage of height from being atop Meayn, he gained greater control while upon his own two feet and greater control over his defensive actions. Hylian shield hefted and Ordonian Blade in hand, Link sought to bathe it in the blood of his vanquished enemies.

Sunlight glinted off the former hero's shield and sword as he plunged forward into battle. A Black foe charged and Link stepped aside to bring his deadly arm down upon the vile beast. The green-clad warrior cleaved another's arm from its socket before running his blood-slicked blade through the man's chest. Link recovered the sword in time to parry the dreaded beard of a heaved axe. Again the enemy swept wide the cumbersome weapon, only for it to be glanced off of Link's broad defence. Link then ended the soldier's life by forcing his Ordonian Sword's tip into its throat. While the Beast Man lay drowning in his own slickness, Link drove the blade home into his victim's sternum. As he once again recovered his stance, the former hero spied a multitude of bestial servants of the Mistress orienting to surround him.

With a frown upon his lips, Link charged forward and used the weight of his weapon to spin a wide, circular arc. The spin caught these foes in their stomachs beneath the plated breast. Bodily entrails spilled grievously onto the parched, unforgiving soil of Death Mountain.

Sweat beaded from Link's forehead and joined that same ground to quench it, as if the thick, darkened blood of the men in his wake failed to satisfy. With a deep breath amid the chaos, Link readied his weapon and made War anew.

Another soldier of the Mistress challenged the green-clad former Hero of Hyrule. This creature was large and wore but half a mask, ending at the lips, revealing an harsh, thick-fleshed maw that was lined with many fine teeth, almost human in appearance. This larger warrior carried a great blade, much like Auru. Though, this beast did not deserve such an agreeable comparison. The size of the sword did not shake Link's confidence as greatly as the skill with which it was being used. Despite the weapon's size, the larger Beast Man swung with the resistance provided by a Cucco feather. Their blades sparked as they made epic contact. As if struck by furious electric arcs, the resulting shock caused Link to loosen his grip on his blade. Thus, his main offensive weapon was sent twirling away before landing uselessly into the dry, dead soil.

The larger beast lunged for another strike, but Link charged beneath it and, with his shield grasped between two gauntleted fists, brought it up to bare with the skull of his enemy. The sharp edge of his broad shield split the bone of the beast's mandible, sending its wearer wheeling backwards. Link, sensing an enemy to his left quickly cast his shield into the iron-masked face of the foe, dropping him to the ground. As the dust rose from the writhing body, Link descended and aimed his shield's edge at his victim's throat. With great force, Link separated the beast's life from his world just as he separated its head from its shoulders.

Then, a large foot found the green-clad warrior's ribs, snapping several. Link landed awkwardly upon the flat end of an unused axe. He rolled over, agitating the internal wound. It was difficult to breath and Link found himself grasping as the tall, dark shadow of the large beastly warrior that the former hero wounded, stood over him. Its mouthy remnants hung, seeping, bleeding. But there was a maliciousness to the amber eyes from behind the half-mask. With no weapon in hand, the creature simply squeezed his fists letting an audible cracking of sinew and tendons run audibly out. A great hand reached for the wounded Hylian's throat. Feeling the axe beside him, Link found a strong grip that caused his wounds to scream in protest. Ignoring them, Link heaved and took one, strong swing and caught the large enemy warrior's knee. Bellowing aloud, the creature sank and Link rose only to receive a balled fist into his stomach. The former hero gargled as warm blood rose up his throat and spewed onto his wounded foe, coating him lightly.

Anger and pain fueled one another as Link summoned the strength to reach out and take a firm hold of the knee-less warrior's iron mask. With great spite, Link tore the wear off, revealing a human-like skull covered with healthy pink flesh. Despite the creature's ugliness, its features were strong and its amber eyes, from beneath a prominent brow, were filled with hate. Link frowned as he bashed the iron into his foe's face. The bestial man fell backward and the former hero tightened his grip around the mask once more. As the larger man lay back, he growled in defiance as Link positioned himself. Once again, he brought the iron mask down to the enemy's skull with the force of his reserved strength.

Again, again, and further still, Link bore down and clubbed.

He brought the iron up and down over and over, even long after the quivering mass of his fallen enemy quivered no more.

A heaviness befell Link's shoulder and wrapped itself around the broadness of it. The former hero, filled still with unquenchable rage turned and raised his fist to that which disturbed him.

A cool ease fell upon Link when his eyes found the source of the disturbance.

It was an old, yet familiar face. A visage that belonged to the mountains and even to Time itself. The simple, curled grin of Gor Coron, Link felt, may itself have even been present at Time's formation.

No words were needed as Link gazed about the simmering battlefield. Amid the risen dust, stood two-hundred Twili and their Queen on approach. There, before Link, however, was a small host of Goron warriors, broken and worn, but alive. The solid ground upon which this victorious force stood was slicked red with with the runnings-off of those who lay shattered across it. High and Black were the stacks of the defeated Enemy dead.

The siege was broken and the battle, at last, was over.

For a time.

The living quarters of the Proud Goron tribe of Death Mountain were simple, yet garnished with cultural simplicity. In their world of steel and casting, the livelihood of these creatures was relatively comforting, especially so to a green-clad warrior who was laying still on a bed of cottons and finely-woven Zora silks. Link sat and winced at the pain that resonated from his broken ribs and countless other superficialities that came from the art of War.

Curiously, Link ran his hand along the tears in his tunic, born from the boot of his large Human-like challenger. "This garb has never torn before," pondered Link quietly to himself. Letting the arm of his unharmed side sit lazily across his battered chest, Link exhaled yet another quandary, "I guess my being the 'former hero' was a correct assumption the whole time."

The warrior lay, defeated in purpose, until voice answered him from the shadows, "Says the man who aided in the salvation of naught but one, but two peoples?"

"Midna?" asked Link, sheepishly amid his pained chest,

"Says also the man who has earned the love of not only Light, but Shadow,  
not to mention its Queen."

"Midna..." Link attempted to protest as he turned his heavy skull to and fro to find his hidden love.

"When you come to your senses, Link, I will see you later." The Voice of the Queen of Twilight faded and the door to Link's room rolled away. The wounded warrior sat up quickly enough to both excite his wounds and demand, "Midna!"

Gor Coron lumbered into the room under its robust archway, saying. "Stubborn as ever, are we, Brother?"

Link relaxed and fell back, noticing the steel tray that the Goron Elder carried. With grace that contrasted his immensity, the Gor was quickly by the fallen former hero's bedside, the noticed tray baring a large open glass vile of Red Potion. With a hurting, grateful smile, Link took the vile and drained it instantly. A cooling sensation ran through him pleasantly. Still, some stiffness lingered as the wounds began to seal and become clean.

"Perhaps an immersion into some hot spring water will ease your joints, Brother? Then we may talk of business."

"Business?" wondered Link, "I was unaware of any business."

"I shall hinder you with detail later, Brother. But for now, you must rest."

Link did not bother to ask for clarification, as the friendly Gor recovered the vile and trotted out the way he came. Link rose slowly from his bed and staggered toward the end of the large room where a quaint pool of steaming water sat. As he neared, the smell lingered well into his nostrils. Already, the heating effects of the spring water began to make headway.

A sudden emptiness filled his heart as Link began to undo his torn tunic. With its loosened straps hanging limply down, Link removed his cap and cast it down gently. He then ran a dusty hand along his ever-growing whiskers, tracing the corners of his mouth with both thumb and forefinger. With a sigh, Link shook his head with a sudden longing for his Queen. Such was the emptiness in his soul: Midna's absence.

His attempts to rationalize her absence were met with failure. He needed to find her and apologize for his moment of doubt, though traces of that doubt still remained, but not overwhelmingly so. Before the former hero could muster the strength to stagger out the door shouting like a madman, Link considered her promise to return to him, so he said, "I'm sorry, Midna."

From behind, a dark pair of arms wrapped themselves around his waist, gently. A  
soft, angelic voice said, "You know, it's always fun to watch you struggle with yourself. If Darsek had a sense of humour, I would have invited him to watch with me."

Link turned around and smiled, "Are you trying to make me jealous of your Captain?"

"Not yet," replied the regal Queen, smiling and baring her white fangs.

"Still a malicious one, despite all we've been through." She kissed him.

Link received it and asked, "Does this mean you forgive my irrationality?"

"Perhaps. But, I will admit this also," began Midna.

"And what is that?" asked a curious Link.

"For starters, you smell."

Link sniffed the air and nodded in agreement.

"Second, we need to do something about this beard."

"Why?" protested Link, "I've had this thing since I left Ordon and have taken good care of it!"

"I don't care," argued Midna, "it's going."

"You may be my Queen, but I am not losing these whiskers. I will however, concede to your initial point: I smell."

At that Link turned around and quickly pulled off his belts and tunic. He then peeled off his warm undershirt before kicking off his leather hide boots.

Midna's warm Twilit arms wrapped their ways around Link's waist once more, tracing their fingers along the rim of the peeled undershirt that covered all below the waist. With ease and speed, Midna saw to their removal.

As Link settled into the warm rolling water of his personal spring, he lay back and relaxed with all due grace. Midna let fall her black cloak as she too stepped into the warm waters, placing herself across from her hero. Link smiled as he let the heat encase him and the fumes devour him. He wished to lean back his weary head, but instead found favour in gazing into the vivid sunset eyes of his Midna, smiling as he did so. The Queen of Twilight curled her own lips as she slowly found herself once more upon her bare-skinned warrior to deliver passion upon his lips.

Then, the slab of stone that was the door creaked and rolled away, sending Midna angrily off of Link. The pair simply glared at whomever it was that sauntered through.

It was Gor Coron. Never before did Link dream of cursing another so much as he did the the Noble Goron that interrupted his moment with his Queen. The expression on the Gor's rocky face derailed all scorn, for it was a look of distress.

"There is no time, we must meet by the outer wall with all due haste!"

There was a great commotion along the outer walls. The surviving Gorons socially crowded about as the two-hundred Twili formed idly into ranks. Midna stood next to Darsek as Link approached, struggling with his bracers. The former hero, clothed and ready, stood beside his Queen and participated in watching the single Shadow Rider charging hurriedly into gathering before the great Goron wall. To Darsek and Midna he spoke in his Twilight tongue, saying, "Hail to my Queen!" Midna received and bade the man continue to Darsek. As the two spoke in their ancient words, Midna translated to Link, "Grave news from the Province of Faron. Although all Mistress forces have been vanquished from rocky Eldin, a renewed force attacks from the South West."

"More units?" asked Link. The question was already asked by Darsek.

"Like shadow, they rose from the hills and like death, they swung into us," translated Midna.

"We have suffered a number of casualties and are forced to withdraw. We are regrouping in your sector following the messenger." Midna's voice trailed off as the distant thumping of many dark hooves trashed the ground.

Of the four-hundred that sought to seal victory within the province, an uneven number returned. Not few, but not all. Midna's sunset eyes both glared and despaired at this loss, for not a single Twili had fallen in the many battles that Darsek led them into.

The Captain of Twilight mounted his shadowy steed and bore carried his helm under his strong arm. Midna called to him in their ancient tongue and he replied with a nod. The Captain then rallied his forces to him, forming them into tight ranks. They were preparing to defend themselves.

"What is happening?" asked a perplexed Link. "Your men appear at ill ease."  
"Something's changed, Link," replied Midna.

"How so? What could have the power to kill your Twili?"

"Only the worthy warriors," explained Midna.

A distant cry, a terrible screeching the likes of which Link thought would never reappear, sounded in the distance.

"Or another being from the Shadows," concluded she.

Through the Goron Pass and beyond, there was a second, more ominous rumbling, like the misgivings of unhappy giants.

Louder, louder and louder still came the collective scattering of a thousand feet.

Then, silence.

Around the visible bend through the Goron passage, a single, large black figure appeared. Tall was its stature, and taller still it could have been, had its dark, muscled back not been hunched. Powerful arms supported a massive frame, whose face was hidden. Silver was the round discus that served as this beast's mask and black were the lofty crests by which his mask hung, like horns of a devil. Swirling blackness toned this beast's flesh and sinew while its chest and limbs were branded with the angry spirals and red emblem of the old Usurper King Zant.

This was a Shadow Beast. A Twilight Messenger chieftain.

"No..." Link and Midna breathed. "It couldn't be."

Indeed, the vile Zant was dead, but this creature and the hoard that followed it, though it was not yet brought to bear; were the machinations of a curse that spun the tale from over a dozen years ago.

The curse should have been broken, hence the Twili being their liberated selves. Evidently, there was more at play. Midna's voice confirmed Link's deep rising self-observation, "The Mistress... how could she have...?"

"That is what I would like to know," responded Link as he drew his blade anew. "Let us begin our queries here, among their corpses!"

At the bend, the Messenger Chieftain, with sharpened tendrils flicking the air, called upon his blackened throng. At once, thousands of clattering feet supporting a thousand large, merciless beings, over took their marshal and charged vehemently forth into the Goron-held clearing.

Screaming and bestial growls eventually met the hardened lines of mounted Twili and the surviving Goron warriors, Link among them. Claw and shadow met blade and fist. Spear shafts from the Twilit Knights ran their former kin through while Goron strength tore these creatures limb from limb.

The warrior thrust his dented shield into the stone mask of an opposing Messenger before running it through with his blade.

One by one, each Messenger fell, unable to surround the smaller force of Light, unable to break them. Still, no defence was left unscarred. More citizens of the Twilight fell to the swiping arms of the Messenger Foe before their Queen's very eyes. The lines could not have been held for long.

Link rolled and sliced among the forest of fierce blackness that surrounded him. Swiftly, his blade danced, killing and maiming ruthlessly. He hated these creatures, these former Twili if they were indeed the cursed forms of the gentle race. Link did not dare place trust in his compassion, for only the Dark Lord was capable of such deceit. Some greater magics conjured these beings and Midna knew it. He needed to end this battle quickly if was to take the War into the Light's advantage.

It was then that a larger blackness overtook him and brought an enormous arm down to bare. Link dodged in time to see the solid earth upon which he once stood was nothing more than a tender mess.

It was the chieftain.

Nearly twice the size of the numerous other Messengers, this chieftain has singled Link out as the main threat.

Link gladly acquiesced to become a greater one.

With a shout of defiance and rage, the former hero pulled the entire weight of his strength into his sword and down onto the enemy.

* * *

Author's Note: An abrupt ending to the chapter, I know. But I try to pace things and avoid a sea of details that you just emerged from. This new battle is supposed to symbolize the seeming endlessness of War, the ending of this chapter, its uncertainty. For all you know, Link could be dead by the next chapter... again.

Please, let me know what you think about this allusion?

I hope you enjoyed this chapter too!

Regards,

-Justin.

* * *


	20. Of Inexorable War

**Chapter** **Nineteen: Of Inexorable War  
**

Part I: Of Shadow

_Ere the Twilight fades,_

_Before the Winds of Four_

_Taketh the Candle and_

_See to its end, both Light Fortitude._

_Swiftly doth these foul winds,_

_Of the Four Directions, bound,_

_Seal the life of many unwilling 'neath_

_The fires carried_

_From ships great and lofty,_

_From Fell Beasts of sharpened maw_

_Their flame sweeps all asunder._

_The lands are black with_

_The armies and audacity of the_

_Mistress who shares no desire_

_Of Life, she carries no quarrel_

_Of Death, she counsels not._

_She is._

_For no matter is needed._

_Of Life, she conquers and binds_

_Of Death, she confines to those_

_Whom she doth not care to name_

_For the name matters not._

_Nor action._

_Nor Sin._

_An ending, most equal, for all._

_However,_

_From Shadow and Remnant, there arrises another end.

* * *

_

Author's Note: Perchance some poetry, anyone?

I loved writing the poetry parts of this story. They were mostly just for me to sate my artistic nature, but if you enjoy them, then by all means, keep reading! There is more to come.


	21. The Eve of First Descent

**Chapter Twenty: The First Eve of Descent

* * *

**

_"Fear cannot touch me. It can only taunt me, it cannot take me, just tell me where to go. I can either follow, or stay in my bed. I can hold on to the things that I know. The dead stay dead, they cannot walk. The shadows are darkness. And darkness can't talk."_

-A Density of Souls

* * *

The mighty sun, against a red sky began to sink as its stained celestial tapestry darkened. Despite the cursed clouds and bleak ceiling upon which they hung, there remained a subtle beauty among it all.

Despite its unwelcome presence, Ilia briefly noted the bloody image's own right to become allure as she wove gently through the throng of spirited peoples. Still, it was the same presence of that crimson blanket that saw its saturation with the blood of many innocents upon its ominous usurping of aerial blue, most natural.

For that, Ilia deemed that sky as unforgivable.

The gloom that suppressed her heart was suddenly released upon reaching her goal.

"Momma!" Hector and Gira, carried by their small running feet shouted a jovial welcome towards their busy mother. The object that formerly suppressed Ilia's heart found new life in containing her hot, rising tears. She quickened her pace and knelt down to receive her little ones, her loves. Her future.

A large, rocky shadow passed over the family and Ilia gazed upward to see the unbreakable Songoro smiling avidly at the joyous reunion. Lovely Lakea stood by his mountainous side, shyly observing all the while baring a contented, quiet grin that only a Zora could master. Shad had finally caught up with the Lady Mayor, his untrained lungs grasping greedily at the air around them.

Coro's hair preceded his head as they curiously emerged from the wagon's hold.

As Ilia rose with her children, she was greeted by her fellow Ordonians. First, by young Uma, the caretaker of both Hector and Gira; then by Talo, his long brown hair and red neck-bound handkerchief lapping carelessly in the wind. Finally, Colin emerged from around Ilia's stallion, Estbar, to greet the happy ones. Ilia noted that he walked slowly, cautiously, gracefully. His right hand was loosened and ready to spring, while his left was tightly prepared to counter the balance of a blade. As he approached, Ilia watched and admired his alerted nature. His lengthening golden locks caught in the same breeze that wrestled with Talo's own.

Colin seemed changed. He was, at last, a man. A true man with the scars and difficulties of life etched upon his strong back and broad shoulders.

"Is something wrong?" asked Colin as he halted his advance before Ilia.

_The Castle_, the Lady Mayor reminded herself. "We need to move quickly," said she. "Follow me to the Castle."

"What's going on?" asked a concerned Uma as she picked up Hector. Ilia gathered Gira and placed her into the wagon before ordering Coro to tend to Estbar. Uma placed Hector beside his sister and the two became unsettled once more.

"Ilia," pressed the maiden, "you seem distressed. Is something the matter?"

"The princess," replied Ilia with ease, "has offered to let our lot stay within the confines of the Castle. I am moving us all there as quickly and as quietly as we can."

"Why the subtlety?" continued Uma.

"Sister," warned Colin, who placed a strong hand upon the girl's shoulder.

"I'll discuss it later, dear Uma," whispered Ilia, "but for now, help me get my children into those walls." Ilia smiled her warm, motherly smile and young Uma nodded with understanding. Both her and her older brother took to their duties. Colin gave the news to Talo and to the Goron and Zora pair. Shad, having caught his breath and regained his composure, approached Ilia, saying, "If I may ask, my Lady, that if you wish to speak to my spiritual friend, you will need expressed permission and a letter of recommendation from an esteemed source, such as myself, and -"

"I will see to it as soon as my family is safe, Shad. My personal endeavors are of no consequence until then." Replied Ilia.

"I understand, Lady Ilia, but I must remind you that any meetings must be scheduled -"

"I understand as well, Shad. And I thank you for your willingness to help me thus far. You've been a good friend.'

Ilia smiled warmly and embraced the scholar with a tight squeeze.

Flustered, Shad stammered, saying, "Er- of course. Any time, my Lady. Is there anything a friend can do for a friend?"

"Well," commenced, Ilia, gazing unto the oil merchant, "you can ask Coro there if he needs help with Estbar."

Shad gulped, having never consorted intimately with horses before. Regardless, the good friend saw to his duties.

The horses were gathered and the lines were set. All were off toward the large oaken brassed gates of Hyrule Castle.

An uneasy silence shrouded the depths Ilia's soul as she rode along side Coro in the Estbar-drawn wagon. Like the red sun from afar, Ilia's heart, her wishes, and her being sunk into darkness. Sweat rolled freely from her small, pointed nose, finding new refuge in the fabrics of her wear. Her flesh, once warm, pink, and dry, became cold, pale and moist. Ilia's thoughts ran wild like the mustangs of Old and her breathing deepened, as if the air about her was no more.

"Ilia?" Coro tilted his bush-like head to one side in an effort to study the queer happenings of the quiet Lady Mayor.

Ilia's heart paced, its beat quickening. With pale, tearing eyes, she whispered in a shallow voice that held not but dread.

She whispered, not to Coro, nor even to herself.

She whispered, _"No..."_

The barrier that guarded Castle Town's central metropolis was crafted out of Zelda's purest love for the people she ruled. The fortifications of that love were based readily on Zelda's will for her beloved ones to live freely, happily and without fear.

But, her people were not free. They were trapped.

As such, her people were not happily incarcerated. Their resent was seeded deep into the bedrock of their minds, though it did not yet sprout.

Zelda's people were, indeed, fearful. Despite the return of their ruler, those foul ships on high clung still to their coveted prize below.

Despite the presence of Nayru's Love, The Mistress of Four cared not for its potency.

The Mistress of the Four Directions catered not to things earthbound or otherwise.

She walked toward Castle Town, her robed figure visible in the very distance. In one moment, She was a day's journey from the City gates.

In the next, all of Hyrule saw that She was standing before them at those very gates of iron and steel.

Ilia felt that uneasy presence. She felt as the earth quivered beneath most unholy, weightless feet. With fear that gauged her emerald eyes, Ilia ordered Coro to halt the wagon. Curiosity far outweighed reason as the Lady Mayor stepped outside its wooden hull.

Indeed, she saw the tall, lean figure of a woman standing outside the closed gates, outside the magical barrier that withheld the Black foe above. Cloaked in hooded linen, the unseen face that Ilia came to fear was hidden. So frail this person appeared. Frail, like a dream or a dove.

That was why, when the Gatekeeper approached her, he hesitated to speak. Ilia wished to scream in protest, but she could not find her voice. The world around her fell into silence.

The woman outside the protective barrier, from behind hooded shadow glared. The Keeper held his ground and shook his head at the mysterious woman's implied request to enter. If she was capable of conveying speech, Ilia did not know of it. Whether he had wished to or not, the Keeper knew that this barrier that kept even the Black Ships at bay would certainly not permit permeability to so frail-looking a woman.

With obvious discomfort, the large man walked away, leaving the woman behind, silent as the grave.

It was then that the rains began fall. Intense globular windows of water passed through Nayru's Love, moistening the cobblestone below. Nature was granted passage into this final refuge against the unnatural forces of the Mistress.

As the rains fell along with the sun, so did the mysterious woman step forward.

_Step._ The Keeper took notice and held out a gauntleted palm.

_Step._ A verbal warning.

_Step._ Each pace weightless against the stone way upon which stalked.

Then, through the barrier, the woman walked. Without hindrance or rejection, she walked on.

As she did, the barrier that was once invisible to the naked eye, pulsated and shone a mighty blue haze. Slivers of white, hot light snaked through the nebulous walls, crossing and meeting.

Then, in a great flash, the barrier known as Nayru's Love, crackled and shattered, its shards falling like leaves of Autumn. As the barrier fell, its defiant remnants dissolved and faded into nothingness.

Hyrule's heartland, Castle Town, was then exposed, defenseless against the Black Ships above.

The woman kept walking forward unto the Citadel, as those about Her began to run, frightened, perplexed, ignorant.

The iron gates that could withhold an entire throng, and entire army of men and machines simply melted and folded away in Her presence. The very ground She walked upon sank, melted and gave way.

The Gatekeeper stood his ground once more with his sword drawn, both out of love and fealty, but also out of sheer terror. She simply walked by him. Then, as if struck by and arrow shaft or run through by the head of a spear, the Keeper recoiled and fell to the cobblestone, unmoving.

This was the Mistress of Four, present and among those she wished to conquer. She was alone.

Zelda then, sprang her trap.

Thirty other robed figures appeared in a tight ring around the Mistress. Each of the Leer held out a single hand, casting varied magics upon her.

Surprisingly, She was stayed. The unbreakable Mistress of the Four Directions, was held in place

"Get your family out of here, Ilia." It was the Princess Zelda baring both her Royal Blade and a stern look of defiance upon her beautiful visage. The Princess approached the Mistress bound, tightening her grip on the sword she cradled.

Ilia said, saw and felt nothing more within herself. The fear she possessed was overwhelmed by uncertainty. Her will and courage, overshadowed by pure absence struggled to surface.

Zelda reached her prey that was forced upon her knees. Hood and robe covered all, but the Princess did not care to unmask that which was unworthy of recognition.

She raised her ornamental blade, its sharpened tip poised to run through the Mistress's bowed crown.

With her allies, the Leer, focused and gazing beyond both sight and sound, The Princess of Destiny thrust forward to end vile, irresolute War.

The Ornate Sword of Hyrule, a cascading marriage of silver and steel, knew the gauntlet and grip of every monarch that was blessed with it. Gold ran along the blade's regal being that was encrusted with stones both precious and rare. Many times had this blade tasted the blood of many a foul foe. Its swift edge matched the blade's agreeable length and size. It was only appropriate that this most elegant and holy of weapons was used to strike down the evil that resonated from the Mistress of the Four Directions. As the Princess of Destiny made her fatal thrust, silver and steel was rendered still and its marriage, broken. Mighty were the forges of Hyrule. Mightier still was the resolve of the Mistress as the blade that was to be her doom, began to splinter and wane.

In a brilliant flash, the Royal Blade shattered while its intended victim remained. Not but handle and hilt remained within Princess Zelda's quivering hand.

Then, against the strength of the Leer who bound Her, the Mistress rose to full commanding height. Without a single breath of effort, she cast down the thirty Leer that attempted to contain her. Her hooded head, hidden and heretical, lay upon the Princess of Destiny a hollow glance.

Words, like the icy sweep of the Sacred Reaper's scythe, ebbed from her shadowed mouth, _"The wills of the damned and righteous alike are but passing winds through the glade. No sacred blade, nor any manipulation of gift and craft can hinder me."_

Zelda responded with wavering confidence, but confidence no less, "No active will can destroy you with intent. But understand that your time here is limited."

_"I,"_ replied the cold voice, _"understand all, but pay no tribute or heed. I am without ambition, without loss or gain."_

"Why? Why must you ravage our lands and hold these people, my people, hostage?"

_"I am beyond Light. I am beyond Darkness. Beyond Courage, Power, and Wisdom."_

"Why must you lay siege to our good world and the others that you have enslaved? What is worth without gain?"

_"I, simply, am."_ replied She. _"Things, simply, are."_

Time, as it seemed to Ilia, began to stand still at that very moment. From what her innocent eyes had taken, Princess Zelda and her thirty mage allies, were effortlessly thrown down and defeated. All Ilia could see was a ripple of energy that emerged from beneath the Mistress's cloak. At once, the simple garb, like the Royal Sword that was used against her, dissolved, thus revealing the true form behind the shadow.

She was beautiful. Shrouded with a fiery light that crested with feint whisps of Darkness, the Mistress took the shape of a young radiant woman with eyes of black flame and lips that sang without voices. White was her skin, pure and without blemish.

She was stunningly beautiful.

Ilia simply gazed in wonderment as the Mistress, gorgeous and silent, rested harsh eyes upon her. The Lady Mayor suddenly felt a presence in her mind. An unwelcome ache that grew, forcing tears to flow from her green eyes. Despite that sharp pain, Ilia stood her ground as the Mistress invaded her thoughts.

_Child of the Strong.... You shall find no peace with me. Nor shall your children see my chaos undone._

_Your past is irrelevant, but that of your love is of great interest to me. Indeed your futures intertwine, but will never meet. His past and your future shall be united, however it is not your flesh that shall collide._

_That which you have laboured for is now mine. This world has seen its rebirth begun._

The ripple spread, touching all that ran about. The energy rushed over Ilia, its heat swiftly overwhelming her. She fell hard upon the ground. The City, in its entirety, fell to the ground.

The energy wavered and melted away and Ilia, swelling with darkness and pain, could not afford to scream before her mind gave way to the abyss.


	22. Of Inexorable Fate

**Chapter ****Twenty-One: Of Inexorable Fate**

Part II: Of Remnant

_Ere the Sun ascends_

_Amid the Wake of Four_

_The Candle doth receive_

_Its wick renewed and brightly burning._

_Surely doth these foul winds,_

_Of the Four Directions, bound,_

_Die and fade away, above endless sky_

_They are interred._

_No Force grand or duly trained,_

_With millions of lives both primed and laid_

_Can keep the flame from burning,_

_Or spill the blood unpaid._

_The lands, both sacred and green_

_Plant the seed of birth_

_To cast down the foe and_

_See the glory of the Three restored_

_They who are righteous_

_Must strike the final blow._

_May Courage be blessed with a vessel anew_

_May Wisdom guide Destiny aloft_

_May Power be righteously held._

_With Sword that strikes_

_With Words that condemn_

_With Strength that abides_

_No will or craft amongst thou_

_Can suffice_

_Alone._

_An ending, most equal, for all._

_A choice, equally granted._

_Equal choice_

_For all._

_Through Shadow and Remnant, another end comes forth.

* * *

_

Author's Note: Yet another interlude. _  
_


	23. Against the Tapestry of Night

Author's Note: This is the chapter that links the story to the prologue. Please remember to point out all my flaws and what I could improve upon!

Thanks!

Now, I present:

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Two: Against the Tapestry of Night**

Link drove his Ordonian Blade once more into the open chest of the high-crested Messenger Chieftain, casting it to the ground with a force most violent. Black life, like the sun, sank from the beast's quivering mass into the ground, quenching it. With chest heaving and arms aching, the former hero wiped clean his weapon against the faded green of his tunic before turning to face the many howls that emerged suddenly around him. Hundreds of the Messenger Beasts clung to their remnants of reality before collapsing along with their leader. A final, guttural groan here, a fading breath there and all tortured vile sinew was laid to rest. Stone masks were splintered and broken, a sign of their old slavery.

When Link smote his Chieftain foe, so too did he appear to wipe clean the slate of Eldin.

The warm cadaver that was the warrior's quarry suddenly broke all bonds of the physical plane and began to dissolve into a cursed twilit cloud of ash and misery. The littered battle grounds melted itself clean of the Usurper King's legacy.

That was the great mystery when Queen Midna finally approached her loving Link, to rest her tall head against his green capped head.

Captain Darsek, the strong arm of the Twilight Banner, rode upon his steed of darkness. Link did not need to glance over the torn fabrics of his shoulder to know that the man was in distress and the warrior knew why. The battle had seen the loss of many Riders baring the Seal of Twilight. Though conjured spear and sword cleft heartily through the throng of vile beasts, many good men had fallen before claw and cursed shadow. Though their numbers were potent, they remained only a fraction of what once was a force of six-hundred.

"Hail, Midna Queen!" Darsek saluted.

"Report, my courageous Captain," said Midna not breaking her shared gaze of the dying light.

Darsek responded, "Your highness, as thy have undoubtedly remarked, the enemy is vanquished, but only half of thine number remain."

"And the Gorons?"

Darsek, surprisingly, was capable of answering, "The Men of Rock are few, as we, but their spirits are strong. They wish to continue warring at our side."

"At what cost, Darsek?"

"My Queen?"

Midna repeated herself calmly, "At what cost?"

"We art prepared to lay our lives down for thee, Highness." answered Darsek without hesitation. Midna's expression did not shift, "Then you and our new allies may rest for the night following a complete account of our dead and wounded. Await further orders until then."

Darsek's glowing red eyes betrayed neither approval or dismay, only servitude. Link was not stunned by his iron words, "Yes, My Queen." The large man of Twilight slowly steered his steed away to organize what remained of his command.

"Zant is dead." claimed the former hero as he planted his gleaming sword into the dry, barren soil to dust off his worn gauntlets.

"I know," replied Midna. "We killed him, remember?"

"Then how is it that we face is mindless servants once more?"

"The Mistress must be capable of many things, either reviving the dead or animating the past. Keep in mind also, Link, that those mindless servant were once my  
kin."

"I apologize, my Queen. That should be impossible, however," retorted Link. "There is probably another explanation."

"Based on what I have learned from the Oocca while you were being revived, it appears that She, the unholy Mistress, can garnish reality with the physical manifestation of our deepest fears."

Midna went silent after her solemn words.

Link then spoke, saying, "I fear naught but the safety of my loved ones. Even then, my failure is not impossible to overcome." He then regarded his beloved, "What is your fear, my Queen?"

"Isn't it obvious. Link?" Her sunset eyes matched the deadening Twilight. "The slavery of my people, the destruction of my people has been and will always remain my largest fear. A fear that has already been realized." The Regal Queen of Lost Twilight held a long, blank glance along her exotic visage.

"Do you fear the past?" he pressed.

"I only fear what the past may conjure."

It was then that a delicate hand found its way to Midna's forehead and the Queen stumbled back. Link started and reached to help her.

"Midna, what's wrong?" The Queen simply shook her head in dismay. She clearly saw something both vivid and unpleasant. The thundering of many feet rose as Captain Darsek dismounted his steed and approached his Queen.

"Queen Midna!" he called as his heavy boots imprinted upon the dusty ground. With no answer, the man of Twilight then regarded her warrior love, "Lord, what is happening? Is she well?"

"A vision of sorts, Captain," replied Link as he settled Midna down. Her eyes then shot open and she gasped in the evening air.

"Zelda!"

Link could not forget the name of the Princess of Destiny. "What about Princess Zelda?" asked he.

"I can feel...so much fear, pain, and death. The high walls of the Central City have fallen to the Mistress." Midna fought the rising tide of warm, silver tears.

"Castle Town has fallen? The Mistress has taken it?" Link could scarcely believe what he was being told. "We have to get there! We have to protect the people!" he shouted to anyone who would listen.

"The people remain while their minds wander," said a nebulous Midna.

"I don't understand..." was all that Link could muster. His thoughts trained on the Ordonian survivors that had managed to find shelter in that place, that citadel. If what Midna was uttering held truth and Hyrule fell, then the War was lost. Either way, he remained taut on his proclamation to make his own War as he had originally sworn.

Raised was the sword from the soil and down into its scabbard did it slide. With his horseshoe whistle, Link sang the favoured melody of Epona who trotted obediently to her master. But, before he could mount, Link remembered his place next to Midna, who gazed up to him, fully aware and rising.

"We must ride to Castle Town, my Queen. We must fight!" Midna simply looked at him.

"Why ride to the Central City when those we seek are being held in Ordon?"

_Ordon?_ Wondered Link. _How could she have known that? Was her mind playing tricks on her?_

Link had no reason to doubt his lover's intuition, as it had never failed before.

The former hero could never have been sure.

Still, he decided to calm his blood and listen as Midna spoke, "I don't know how, but I believe that the significance of Ordon in my mind is related to the tragedy that has befallen Castle Town."

"What happened to the City?" asked Link.

"Though I sense much death and destruction, I also sense much life among it. Much life."

"Then what are we to do, my Queen?" queried the former hero. Midna quickly mounted Epona and wrapped her arms around Link's chest, as a maiden clings to her beloved beast. Her sunset eyes reflecting the purest descent of the day, while the eyes of the Lord were of deepest blue, like the those of the icy mountain Wolve he portrayed. "You and I will make our way to Ordon."

Darsek turned to mount his own ride and assemble the remainder of the Noble Guard and Goron alike. Midna stayed her loyal Captain's intent with a raised arm. "Captain Darsek," began she, "please see to it that the people of Castle Town are secured and that any threat to their lives is ended."

"But my Queen, we cannot, by Oath, abandon thee!"

"Please, Captain. I will be fine." She gently squeezed Link's chest.

"I must insist, my Beloved Queen, our people need thee unharmed and unspoiled! Mine Oath forbids this abandonment."

"Darsek," exhaled Midna with a tense air, "I AM the Oath. The Oath commands thee to concede to mine command. Protect the people of Light."

"With great humility and against my will, and the will of thine Force, we shall commit to our original order without haste." Darsek bowed low and long before turning to mount his dark steed. As he rode onward, Midna called to him, "Captain Darsek!"

The large man halted and turned to face his beautiful monarch.

"Be well and we shall live in peace again!"

"For the Glory of the Twilight!" responded Darsek before he charged down to meet the awaiting line of the Queen's finest soldiers.

Before long, Link and Midna trotted away down the long and lonely path out of Kakariko.

The red moon was high and the winds were cold by the time they reached the near-endless expanse of green hills that formed the Province of Faron.

* * *

In the distance, the broken Company of Twilight, against the dark red tapestry of what once was a black night, charged beyond rock and canyon and into the North. Behind them rolled the unbroken tatters of the proud Gorons, off to make final War and retribution for the many a brother lost. With rage and fealty sown into their spirits, both Twilight and Stone became one, a cloudy storm against the sanguine peace of the red moon overhead.

Their path was uneasy.

Their cost, in blood and scar was high.

Through beast and men, the unified Company rose and penetrated. Like savages, the gentle Gorons ripped sinew from bone. Like sharpened shadows, the Twilit Knights, upon their steeds of darkness, tore into flesh and armour.

Rage was met without hatred, only the blood of many foes.

And many foes fell before the road to the Central City was opened.

Many more allies lay among the dead fallen.

In the name the people of Light, the Twili fought.

In the name of chaos, did the Blackness crest.

Sin begat wound and wound begat death.

Much of all was shared, save the righteous who were without sin.

Swift and deep were the blades of Twilight that cut.

Powerful and relentless were the fists of Gorons who raged.

Worn were the Black lines until the Northern Fields of Lanayru were reached.

On that night, in the Land of Hyrule, the shadowed remnants of the righteous lost gathered.

On the opposing edge of that same field, across the stone bridge, a mighty host of the Black enemy amassed.

"Leave the battle to us," commanded He of Twilight. The Goron named Darbus, who did not shy from battle with ease, spoke, "What would the men of Twilight have of us, if not to aide you in the events ahead?"

"My Queen," replied the Captain Darsek, "wished for the people of Hyrule to live. My Knights will stave off the enemy whilst you aide the City. Many a foe rest in those streets. Of that, I am certain."

The Darbus of Goron considered this reason. His thunderous voice pummeled the air, "Very well, Captain. If we do not find any Black beast men to slay, then you may count on our immediate intervention and your salvation in this War."

For the first time since Captain Darsek had ever recalled, he chuckled, though mildly so, "Consider it a pact, then O Mountainous One."

At that, the Goron patriarch curled and led his kin, who rolled into the city's open gates.

Darsek found his plumed helm and placed its comfort upon him.

The enemy drew near.

Before the red moon had reached its peak, Darsek, Captain of the Twilit Knights, led the charge into the vile Messenger host below.

Shadow and remnant and fragmented still, charged the Force along the hill.

For in the Land of Hyrule, there is War.


	24. The Sleep Eternal

**Chapter Twenty-Three: The Sleep Eternal**

**

* * *

  
**

Heavy droplets of rain dashed gingerly against stone, soil and the Lady Mayor's cheek. The pain that once engulfed Ilia's mind and body ebbed and eventually subsided. With a flutter and a groan, she opened her green eyes to the dark world around her. No cries filler her ears, nor did any movement stir her other senses. Ilia felt alone. Alone and frightened and perplexed. Suddenly, a rush of rigid fear filled her breast and she scrambled to her weary feet. Ahead of her, where the mysterious being had confronted Zelda and her allies, stood nothing but blackened cobblestone and shards of broken steel. _What happened to her Majesty? Is she...?_ Ilia turned and saw the throng of motionless bodies that surrounded her, quietly littering the Central Fountain before the Great Citadel. No smoke rose from any building. No fires spread. No sounds trespassed the ether.

Even the Black Ships that floated aloft above the towers with their warm spouts prepared to pour liquid fire were absent. They no longer hung, like dark clouds of ending times. There were no enemies that poured into the open gate or through the broken magical barrier. Ilia was definitely and completely alone.

Then, a thought; a most horrid fantasy poisoned the calm that surrounded her.

_THE CHILDREN!_ Ilia gasped and darted across the small distance between her and the motionless wagon. She wheeled around the large mass that Estbar created with his static self before bounding into the driver's seat. There lay Coro, his wide nest of hair cushioning his still body. Upon their backs, curled beside an unmoving Uma, were the little ones that Ilia longed for. Hector and Gira, their tiny hands clasped around those of their fair young caretaker, were as cherubs, resting in the arms of their Lady. Tears welled without halt and dropped like the rains outside the wagon's bull-hide canopy. She longed for both death and the strength to scream. Ilia had not the clarity of mind, nor the prowess to take a blade to her grieving heart or cast herself from the tallest walls that surrounded Castle Town, so she simply lay next to her kin, her future.

Her loves.

And as she did, Ilia allowed her tears to run as her heart bled with sorrow. Gently, she ran her fingers through Hector's darkened hair, much like that of Aeadis. Gira's eyes, tightly shut, passed in Ilia's wishful thoughts, as mere rest. The twins slept heavily after a day's mischief.

It was not long before Ilia herself began to dream.

Like most dreams, the world was as it used to be. The ceiling of Heaven shone its brilliant blue, interrupted only by the cotton bolls that served as clouds, misshapen. The soft brush of grass grazed Ilia's waxen flesh. She could feel their blades crossing, tickling her.

Ilia smiled as she glanced upon her young, maiden's hands. She was sixteen once more in the still-standing village of Ordon. The friendly Hawk circled overhead, spotting her next meal while green gill fish leapt enticingly from the still waters of the nearby lake. The mill's water wheel turned inexorably on while the wind fans ground. With a lazy glance, Ilia saw her beloved overweight father, Bo, marching officially on with the noble swordsman Rusl at his side. The sight of Mayor Bo, alive and well, filled Ilia with joy. She smiled broadly and leapt up to charge lovingly towards him.

Though their chatter was distant, she was sure that the tedious talk of duties and workloads ran rampant among them.

She missed the carefree nature of the trees and springs and the faeries that fluttered about them, but she lamented her dead father more. As she ran, no distance appeared to be covered.

As she charged toward her unsuspecting father, the blue skies gave way to Twilight in a most unnatural turn. By the time she reached the fork in the road where he stood, the Mayor was no longer visible. Instead, a mighty and melancholy procession of Ordonians and Gorons marched past, carrying upon their shoulders, the shrouded, motionless Bo.

Torch fires and pained cries dotted the landscape and filled the air.

A large hand, both strong and worn, clasped Ilia's. The feeling was familiar, soothing.

Aeadis held her hand and kept his new wife close to him.

"Don't be sad, Ilia," his warm voice flooded her memory. "I am here and I will never leave you."

"Never leave you," he spoke once more, softly, distant.

"Never leave-"

"I'm leaving, Ilia," said Link finally as he secured another strap. Ilia suddenly found herself in front of Link's treehouse where the Hero was fixing heavy sacks onto Epona the mare. Beautiful was the man she adored. Even in this memory of a dream, Ilia was still stunned by his thin visage, strong cheeks, and vivid blue eyes. The stubbornness that pursed his lips only served to increase Ilia's desire to kiss them. Link's stubbornness prevented that from happening. Amid the stern consternation of his gaze, Ilia found desperation within it as well.

"Why?" asked she.

"You wouldn't understand." At that, Link leapt onto his mare and began to steer her away from her natural stable.

Ilia walked after him. saying, "Try me, Link." Her tone became increasingly agitated and saddened. "You know you can tell me anything!"

Silence was his reply.

"Link stop right this instant!" They approached the glade that led to the Ordonna Spring, though Link's trot was too swift for Ilia to keep up.

"Have you found someone else?" She posed this question more to herself than to her love that galloped away without even a sympathetic backward glance. Ilia held her tears back as she placed her clasped hands to her lips.

"Please come back...."

Then, it became thirteen years past and the skies became red, as if an unholy blade had run its course along the rich blue veins of the sky. Fire swallowed the forests and swept the fields. Ilia ran back into the village in a desperate attempt to save her family. There she saw Aeadis and Talo dashing toward the lake with the crying twins in their arms.

"Mommy!" cried Hector as he buried his wetted face into Talo's breast.

"Aeadis!" shouted Ilia as she caught up with them.

"Ilia," remarked a startled Aeadis, "what are you doing? You're supposed to be away from here."

"Does it matter?" replied Ilia, "Come with us into the lake, we'll be safe there."

"I cannot," answered Aeadis. "You need to fly away from here, be safe."

He kissed her passionately. Then he whispered, "Wake up and stay alive."

"What?" asked Ilia, shocked.

"Wake up and live," her husband repeated. "Wake up and live, Ilia."

"Wake up."

"Wake up."

_"Wake up!"_

Ilia awoke with a start. It was still dark, it was still deathly quiet, and Ilia was alone with her motionless kin. However, the rains had ceased and she did feel a presence; a familiar presence at that.

"Ilia..." a voice that was not held by a stranger spoke. "Ilia are you alright? I thought you had succumbed as well."

Ilia placed the strong voice and rose to meet it, "Telma?"

The darkness answered, "Yes, it's me, hun. I trust you are well?"

Tears ran anew in Ilia's eyes as she regarded her unmoving family and friends. "I could be better, Telma. Look at what she did! That malevolent sage woman has killed my loved ones without having the courtesy of ending my life as well!"

"You are wrong on two points, my dear," claimed Telma from the shadows. "One: that woman you saw battling Princess Zelda is not a sage. Any simple sage cannot stand against the Leer, Zelda's allies."

"Then who-"

"Second," continued Telma, "Your family is not dead. None here are. At least not yet."

"I don't understand," croaked Ilia, "They are not breathing."

"Yet air still occupies their lungs," offered the tavern lady. "And a pulse still stimulates their hearts, Ilia. They are still alive." Ilia found it difficult to believe that her wishes were granted, yet her tears began to warm with the lifting of her heart. She hoped it was true. Still, she wished to see Telma, curious of how she remained conscious while the entire city slept. Ilia crawled out of the wagon and stepped onto the moonlit cobblestone. Telma was nowhere to be seen, yet Ilia could feel her presence.

"Where are you, Telma? Step into the light."

"I'm afraid I cannot do that just yet, dear," replied the shadows. Ilia tilted her head and wondered aloud, "Why are we the only ones unaffected by this phenomenon. What has happened?"

"We are not totally unaffected by this turn of events, hun."

"What do you mean?" Ilia grew irritated by such ambiguity. Telma stepped into the moonlight and Ilia gasped at the sight she beheld. The creature that spoke with Telma's voice would have frightened the Lady Mayor if she had the strength to run or scream. Instead her heart merely paced at the sight of a short, stalky being with pink flesh and large eyes that bulged curiously from its angular skull. Dark hair was tied in a coiled fashion that was befitting of the Hylian she claimed to be. This dwarf lacked the deep tone of Telma's own flesh, but the golden loops that occupied her ears harkened Ilia back to the day when she first met the bar-maiden. At once, Ilia's heart steadied itself as the fleshy dwarf held out her painted fingers. Yet, Ilia remained hesitant. Telma's next words stayed the mother's uncertainty, "Are Hector and Gira unharmed?"

Ilia smiled and held the creature in her arms. Telma returned the embrace, which was tight around Ilia's waist. Despite her diminutive stature, Telma remained as robust as ever, her strength remaining stout. When the embrace was broken, Ilia wasted no time in her inquisition.

"What happened?" asked she.

Telma motioned to the black scorches and the silver shards of Zelda's sword. "The Mistress is what happened."

"This Mistress cursed you?"

"Ay, young one. She has cursed these lands with War and fire."

"This Mistress, that woman that Zelda tried to slay, is responsible for all of this?"

"Everything you've seen burned and destroyed is all of her doing." As Telma spoke, Ilia could feel her cheeks begin to warm with anger and grief. "Why is she doing this? What have we done to her? What has Hyrule ever done to her?"

"Nothing, child," was Telma's reply. "Things, simply, are." Ilia was silent for a long moment. When that moment passed, the lady mayor regarded her cursed friend and asked, "How do you know so much of this and never told us beforehand?"

To this, Telma said, "I don't know, Ilia." Her tone became solemn, "I recall great pain, then this," she ran a dry palm over her angular face, a single tear swelling from her large, expressive eyes. Ilia held her dwarfed friend close and inquired, "No former recollections?"

"None," replied the cursed Telma. "But, it must have happened for a reason." Ilia gave the tavern maiden another squeeze and declared, "We shall find out together. But first we must get as many people to safety as possible."

Much time passed before the many fallen victims of the so-called Mistress were moved and a path cleared for the wagon to pass through. All, in good time, would be figured and solved, thought Ilia as she unhinged her wagon from Estbar's unconscious mass. Telma, with her great strength, began to push the wagon out of the Centre and near the security of the Inner Walls.

Then, the ground began to quiver like the hungry rumblings of a mountain range. Ilia regarded Telma, who said, "That is no earthquake."

Like rolling boulders, the Gorons arrived through the four main entrances of Castle Town's Gates. A great host of the Mountain Tribe unraveled their stone-like bodies and righted themselves. With thundering stomps, the largest of them approached the fallen and began to sniff the air before his eyes fell onto the single human standing amid the red moonlight.

"Little human!" called the large one, who she recognized as the Goron Patriarch Darbus, "where are your enemies?"

"Of them, I have no clue O Strong One. There is only myself and one other that remain conscious."

"Shall I fear the worst for the rest of your kind then, little human?"

"Nay," replied Ilia, "They are alive, if barely so. Will you aid us?" To this, the great Goron beat his mighty chest and called his kin forward. At once, the Goron people began to gently gather the fallen, as a mother hen gathers her chicks.

Ilia approached and placed a warm hand upon the Goron's thick arm.

"Thank you, Great One," said she, "I am most grateful."

"There are no thanks to be had, delicate Ilia," Darbus declared.  
"We shall send our thanks to the wretched Mistress instead."

"The Mistress?" pondered Ilia, "do you know where she resides?"

"Of that," answered Darbus, "My Brothers and I have no inkling. Only the people of Shadows know, for their Queen rides with the Hero to challenge her."

"The Hero?" mumbled Ilia, "You mean Link?"

Darbus nodded, "The same."

"Then he is alive?"

"Alive and well with his mate, the Queen of Shadows, as I recall her to be." Ilia's heart sank at the news that Darbus gave her. After thirteen years, it was another woman after all. Ilia felt foolish as Telma pushed past her, saying, "You say that you are in company with the Shadow Beings?"

"Who is this creature, Lady Ilia? What business does she have with us?" Darbus was never warm with greetings.

"This is a friend, Lord Darbus, one who possesses great knowledge and understanding." Before Darbus could submit is approval, a Goron tribesman approached, saying, "Patriarch, the battle has begun in the North!" Darbus nodded and returned to his prior conversation, but instead found that the girl and creature had gone. Despite the dire circumstances, the Goron patriarch noted the dearth of formality with some humans. He was not, indeed, impressed.

Ilia had a difficult time in matching Telma's speed. The cursed woman's short stature did not inhibit any speed that her new form possessed. To the North, the pair wove through Goron and victim alike, dodging the perplexed glances and failed salutations. Some greater will blessed both strength and endurance to Telma's legs and beckoned her forward, for she heeded no call issued by the trailing Lady Mayor.

To the North, Ilia and Telma found naught but darkness and shadow. Only, the shadow was met with the snarling and dashing of an army renewed. Upon steeds of darkness, the company of armoured Knights charged. Behind masks of stone and slavery, the grander mass of vile creatures stormed.

To the North, Ilia and Telma headed. They, as innocents, bore witness to the brutality that was combat.

For, in the Land of Hyrule, there was War.

And of this War, many of Hyrule and Twilight alike had seen their days numbered and ended if not by fire, then by the blade. Thus, the Twilit Shadow cascaded to end this most vile and bitter conflict

Then, the lines of fierce opposition met.

* * *

Author's Note: Welcome to the Prologue once more. This story has now come full circle. What do you think so far?

Don't worry. The end is on the horizon now.

Regards,

-Justin.


	25. The Song of the Mistress

**Chapter Twenty-Four: The Song of the Mistress**

* * *

_Through time, ether and marrow spent.  
Through lands untouched and peoples forlorn.  
Through mountain and sea spread wide.  
Bound am I to the Golden Three and their power:  
The antithesis of balance, unity, tranquility.  
No one of Wisdom blessed bares the wit to harness mine own.  
None with Courage deeply seeded can stand the tides of Chaos.  
One with Power, pure and present, cannot strengthen the Guard of Realms.  
Mine Will, without burden or hindrance, be done.  
Mine fires, to ashen the soil and lash the lands, be wrought,  
To raze the eldest constitution to the blackened ground,  
Wiping clear the slate of all things.  
Things, simply, shall be as they, simply, are._

_Of Chaos, I garnish the world.  
Of my Will, the Noble Horse follows.  
Of Twilight, I have laid waste.  
Of the Children Strong, whom the Three have blessed to see mine end,  
Their souls I have ensnared.  
Their kin, like Righteous Hyrule, shall feel the breath of the Abyss.  
A mother grieved and a father lost,  
To servitude worthy of merit  
Shall never suffer their loves to pass._

_Blessed by Light and born of Shadow,  
A Queen seeks redemption and vengeance,  
Beyond all reach.  
Blessed by Light and marred by Fate,  
A Former Hero, a Noble Horse, shall be mine.  
Father and Son to serve their Mistress.  
The Four Directions, ere the winds blow 'neath a sky of blood,  
Shall begin anew.  
Under mine eyes and alms, by the Grace of mine Chaos._

_Though Four Directions falter under the banners of mortal rule.  
None escape the Fires of Fate, spurned inexorably on by the Will of mine Chaos.  
All shall fall and be concealed,  
Within time, ether and the marrow of many bones,  
Cast about within the most barren of realities._

_May it reign, eternally.  
May Life end as it must:  
Without warning,  
Without mercy,  
Without the Grace the Three whose antithesis I remain.  
Forever._

_

* * *

_

___Author's Note: There's only a few chapters left. I hope you are all enjoying it thus far!_  



	26. A Legend Carved in Stone

**Chapter Twenty-Five: A Legend Carved in Stone**

* * *

No thing living or dead crossed Maeyn's prudent path. Neither foul wind nor wild call was woven through still air. Link and Midna, born upon the mare's great unfaltering back, were assailed by none other than darkness and silence, most deafening. Link felt his Queen's arms tighten around his chest yet again. He felt her quiver, governed either by descending cold or rising fear. The blizzards of Snowpeak Heights did not hold sway against the Twilight's Ruler, though this cold was beyond benign. It was an evil chill that sent stinging daggers into the most solid of spines. Link felt himself tremble along with her.

In the South, no cold was too great to bear, yet the cool death that nibbled the greenery of Mighty Faron's fields was unnatural and unwelcome. The blades of lively grass gave way to the oppressive gelidity and withered. It was not until the edge of Faron's Woods that true ice crept through Link's veins: All trees and vibrant things lined along the Tamed Way through Faron lay blackened, burned, with life no longer. The forest, like Sacred Hyrule around it, was dying in great haste. As the former hero and his Queen threaded purposefully through the dead forest, the chill ran deep into their flesh. Thick curls of breath ran from their open mouths, fading away with mocking laziness.

Eventually, Maeyn strode no further, halting before the chasm that separated Faron from Ordon. The gate upon the other side hung open and the bridge remained intact. The red glow of the moon cast a foreboding gloom about the provincial borders. Despite his mastery over Maeyn and their deep abiding trust, Link knew not to push his mare into unfriendly grounds. He therefore dismounted his beast and friend, helping Midna to the dead frigid ground. With sword in hand and Queen behind his broad shoulders, Link stepped cautiously across the old bridge crafted of oaken timber, bound by Hylian twine. It held the warrior's charge and the weightlessness of his Twilit Queen.

Eventually, they passed unchallenged and unharmed onto Ordon where Midna knew their allies to be held captive. It was a mere vision, but a potent one nonetheless. Midna knew that it was in Ordon, the place where the Mistress placed her first fiery touch, incinerating the bodies and souls of the hapless below that Zelda was held. Ash fell to mingle with the frost and no warmth was contained.

Link felt the presence of an unholy breed lurking among the shadows, festering among the rotted cork of the once proud flora. Link had gotten to know those trees well. Each was strong; sturdy enough to hold his weight, even into his adult years. The hardiest of trees once grew wild near the Spring of Ordon. As they passed, Link's blood ran ill as he saw the sacred waters poured no more from natural spouts, nor did any sparkling spring water remain within the pool. Rock, dry and forsaken, was all that remained of the shallow depth once alive with fluttering faeries.

It was now abandoned, like hope from Hyrule itself. Link could not bare another glance.

Finally, the Valley of Ordon was reached, though its landscape was not recognizable. It was dark with lashed earth and alive with flames that faded not. The homes, now ragged piles of cackling wood and sod, burnt brilliantly, as if sustained by unholy fuels. Lake Ordon, once a fishing paradise, met the same fate as the Spring. Withered were the fish that were scattered across the dry lakebed and fragmented was the ground beneath it.

Yet, the most commanding sight that stole away from the depression was the presence of a grand structure at the Valley's edge, where the goat ranch once stood. Wide were its hulls and tall was its frame, though none of it touched the scorched earth beneath it, save the many chains that kept it bound. It was an airship, far larger and more vile than the smaller Black vessels that orbited around it. Within the valley, festering as beasts do, were hundreds upon hundreds of feral soldiers, loyal to their Mistress. Black was their woven armour and sharp were their spears. Their amber eyes aglow like thousands of vigils, emanating death.

Despite the cold, Link tightened his grip on the Ordonian Blade. Appropriate would it be to slay the Enemy with a blade crafted from the conquered land. Defiantly, the former hero moved to step into the Valley, only to feel delicate fingers tug at his torn, faded tunic.

"Link, wait." Midna's voice remained soft despite the cold fear in her sunset eyes. Link melted under the heat of her gaze, the only source of warmth in that forsaken land. He hated the Mistress all the more for the misery found in his Queen's eyes.

"What's wrong?" asked Link, breaking the gaze but holding on to his rage.

"Don't go charging in without thinking this through! There must be another way yet."

"Yes," said Link, darkness setting his voice, "right through them, wading through their blood."

Midna simply held tighter, "The Mistress is there. I can feel her presence. This is what she wants!"

"Then let me face her! Let me kill her!" Link's rage boiled within his chest, like a fierce deity of War.

"Link, she cannot be reached nor can she be killed. She has many men do her bidding. Slaves she makes of all of them. She uses their fears against them, to control them! Please Link, you must not face her directly."

"Then how-" she turned his head and kissed him.

Then she said, "Let me face her. Let me stand for my Realm and my People. Though none may kill her willingly, for she is neither living nor dead. Only the gods can contain her. Only the blessed may intervene, though I fear that I am not fit to be so fortunate." Desperation filled Midna's eyes. Never before was such weakness displayed by the haughty Queen, yet there it lay, plain and vulnerable. Link glanced at his wrist and the dull marking that was impressed upon it, the Triforce. Never since the time of Twilight did it glow or pulsate through his soul. It was but a mere mark of birth, a taint that thrust him into the title of a Hero blessed by the Goddesses. Yet, a hero he was no more, abandoned by the very deities that saw fit to bless him. Neither he nor Midna were blessed by any kind of fortune granted beyond their abilities. They forged their own fortune with blood and pain behind them.

Link then gazed over his shoulder to Midna once more, a smile upon his lips, "We go together, then. We face both Mistress and slave alike. For Zelda, we shall charge into this foe and for Zelda we shall carve both her liberty and our fortunes."

Midna had no choice but to grin at her warrior's oath and join in his deathly wishes. Together, they walked into the fire-crested Valley that was tortured by smoke and ash and evil frost. Each step was taken with bitter hindrance by the frigid air and sightless red night. Long before Link and Midna has entered the descending slope, there were spotted by the keen amber eyes of the Beast Men from the lush untamed lands, accompanied by the resurrected evil of the Usurper King's Messenger servants. Thousands crowded the way, though none rushed to face the green-clad warrior or the black-robed maiden. Behind the throngs of Beasts was Link and Midna's destination, the floating technology from a distant land that most likely held the Hylian Princess and many other souls. The Men of the Mistress and their witless Twilit resurrects stood by, on guard as Link stepped ever closer to the lines of spears and shields. No missile was cast in defiance, only the heavyset breaths of the feral creatures that pledged their allegiance to the foul Mistress.

As Link and Midna edged closer to the lines that held their doom, a distant voice, vivid and enchanting echoed through the warrior's mind,

_Welcome to my Valley, Former Hero.  
Do you wish to face me?  
Do you wish to avenge the countless dead?_

To this, Link answered, Yes. In the gloom, he saw Midna nod and knew her answer as well. Again, the Mistress spoke, her heavenly voice capable of searing the coldest of hearts,

_Do you wish to undo my Chaos?  
Do you wish to quench the fires of Glorious War?_

_  
_Link merely answered with a thought_, There is no glory to be had. Only Justice, poetic and absolute. _

He knew Midna felt the same.

The lines of Beast Men became silent. With uniformity, they shuffled to and fro, clearing a narrow path toward the grand floating structure that was bound by chains to the earth. On high, many floating vessels gathered, their spouts warm and imposing. Yet, even they drifted to allow the miraculously opening path before them to remain vacant. With great caution and a steady pace, Link and Midna walked into the parted sea of feral men and beasts. As they passed by, the warrior could feel heavy breaths tug at the thin air around them. The wild men tensed and growled, longing for battle, while the cold stone masks of the Twilit resurrects, the remnant of a past fear, tracked the pair heedlessly. The long tendrils that hung from those masks whipped carelessly, snapping in the darkness, dividing it. Vast was the sea of black beasts and long was the path that divided them. Link strode dutifully past the endless hoards that lined his path, his chin held high and his sword held tight. Midna's tall and elegant grace paced next to him. Her sunset eyes burned with the ferocity of the Sols that once radiated within her Realm. Without a second thought, Link thrust out his hand and grasped Midna's, lowering his defence, but raising his comfort. His Queen did not reject the wrist, but instead squeezed it. If that was to be their last time tasting the free air of a conquered land with their own lungs, then they were doing so in a manner that befitted them both: together, side by side.

_Light and Shadow unite against the inevitable,  
To rescue Wisdom incarnate._

As Link and Midna approached the massive bulk of the airship where they suspected Zelda to be held, there was no presence there to meet them but the humming of many engines. Still the vessel was suspended and earthbound, still did its scale impress them.

_Yet, to what end doth thou seek?  
What worth do thou find in leaving thine lives to me,  
In order to restore a foundation long rotten, cast upon the sands of Fate,  
Where it should falter and sink?_

Then, a loud hiss emanated from above. The entire port side of the vessel's great iron keel descended under a haze of steam. Link loosened his grip on Midna's hand and brought out his shield. Midna barred her fangs and made ready the great magics that dwelt within her.

_It matters not.  
Welcome to mine Valley burned,  
Mine Province ravaged.  
Mine World ended._

Before any move was made, a brilliant shaft of light, pure and sacred, was upon the former hero and his Queen. Blinded, Link dropped his blade and Midna turned her head. A strong force wrapped itself around the warrior, binding his arms and legs, dragging in into the open hold. He tried to scream, but his voice was stayed. Midna struggled against the force, her arms held behind her back, her sharp fangs held back the curses she no doubt wished to cast.

All became washed with white and they could feel no more. The door of the great iron bay was shut behind them. The gentle humming of engines and technologies resumed.

* * *

A sudden gasp and the blindness had worn off and Link had lost all perceptions of time and space. Where am? How long have I been here? The former hero was in a vast chamber of gleaming metal, reflecting a dull light. High was the domed ceiling and bound was he to the pillar at its centre. Before him was a wide stair that led to an empty throne. It was very warm in the chamber and he tried to wipe the beads of sweat from his face, but found that he could not move his arms, nor his legs. Not a single muscle could twitch and no movement was at his command any longer. His neck was rigid, his arms held outright while his legs were snapped together, heels touching. Link could remember being forced into the open hull of the massive airship by some paranormal force, some unknown magic. He recalled losing his blade and being bound along with - Midna? Link tried to speak her name, to call it out against the waxen light, but there was no call that could resonate from his throat, nor would there be a response. Link attempted to close his eyes and felt about the room and was successful. Somehow, he could sense her presence when all other senses were dulled. She felt near, alive and well, just as he was, only out of sight. Still, that fact ate away at the warrior as he clenched his eyes shut.

Link opened his eyes and found himself staring into a cold pair of glassy sapphires. They were as a mirror, vivid and indifferent to his own eyes, as if he were glancing into a pool of the purest water, though they did not blink when he did, they did not widen when his did. Beyond the blue eyes though were many years and they stared with a blankness that made Link's hear pace quickly. For this was not a mirror's reflection, but another man altogether.

This man was taller than Link, his shoulders broad and his frame firmly set beneath a black surcoat. Long was the man's golden locks, parted and bound. Equally lengthy was his beard that matched Link's, though a patch of silver grey ran down its centre, hinting at a greater age. Strong arms were held loosely by the man's large frame. Link noticed a black-hilted sword that sat within a scabbard that clung to the older man's hip. Such a regal blade worth of the Court of Hyrule. It was then that Link noticed the Hyrulean Royal Crest of the majestic eagle swooping over the golden Triforce upon the black surcoat. Though this crest was torn, as if the coat was cut by the swift run of a blade. A fitting omen to these dark times.

For a long moment, the man stood still, staring into Links eyes and Link to his. This man felt familiar, though the former hero had never seen him before. Though his heart raced as the jackrabbit bounds, Link felt a certain calm while in the presence of this strangely familiar figure. Strong and silent, much like he. Link could not take his gaze off of the man's features that strikingly resembled his own, though the swordsman's nose was rounded while Link's was narrowly pointed and his forehead was wrinkled with age, his cold cheeks shallow.

Suddenly, a smile crept across the stranger's fine lips. A smile that was warm, friendly, also familiar. He was going to speak and the single word that was uttered would haunt Link for eternity.

He said, "_Son_."


	27. The Last Light

**Chapter Twenty-Six: The Last Light**

* * *

Ilia witnessed the battle from the safety of a nearby bushel. She had followed the transformed Telma into the field outside the northern walls of the Central City and there the pair witnessed the epic clash of man and beast. The bold tavern lady had become restless in her new state and Ilia found great difficulty in managing her. For the entire length of the short-pitched battle, Telma had struggled to remain seated and it was as if she wished to venture out into the fray heedless of lashing blade or claw.

At last, a great holler rose from the din of battle and the mightiest beast on the field was felled by the mysterious dark Riders. Telma's eye traced the movements of one Rider in particular; a handsome and manly creature cloaked in black and shelled in armour that glowed with many resonating arabesques. Ilia suspected that he was the company's Lord and Commander. From beneath his ornate helm that was plumed with a strange feather, a great pair of crimson eyes glowed and matched the red night. A trim beard protruded from the creature's chin beyond the wide cheek guards. As he thrust his short blade into the great beast's flesh, it writhed before becoming still. Then the field roared with the dying throes of many foes before they too joined their Lord in Darkness. The evening was won by the helmed Riders of Mystery. Their reigns broken, each beast dissolved along with their field master. The handsome Rider paused upon his steed and removed his helmet in time to witness a spectacular yet unexplained event.

The mist of the Northern field parted and the ground rumbled softly. From the centre of the valley there rose several structures: large slabs of stone arrayed in precise positions. Eventually, the stones ceased to rise, their exact placements unclear from the level ground. The bearded Rider and his flabbergasted few approached their prize, if a prize indeed it was. None risked a touch, but all risked their stares. Such a mysterious formation, yet no purpose arose as to the existence of such a structure. Ilia could see the unreadable expression upon the commander's face as his entire company eagerly awaited his words. He said nothing, but bravely placed an open palm upon the naked surface of the nearest stone. From the point where his hand made contact, sharp blue lines emerged across the rock's face. Twisting and turning, forming curious, brightly lit mazes and patterns, the lines halted not until the last snakes of blue light returned to the point of origin.

It was then that Telma cursed, "Ignorant Interlopers!" as she rose fully and began her strut toward the line of battle-worn Riders. Ilia trailer her in an attempt to stay her gait, but the transfigured lady was not to be halted. Before long, Ilia found herself standing next to Telma before the host of shadowy Riders who gazed down at her with both suspicion and interest. The Lady Mayor found herself longing to return to the relative safety of the City walls, aiding the Gorons in their care of the sleeping victims. As Telma neared them, the shadow Riders turned to face her, lowering their spears in response. Ilia was worried that her friend would be cut down in some horrible fashion, fearing they mistook her for an enemy. She tried to hold Telma back. The pain of guilt should any harm befall Telma would be too great for such a kind heart to bear. Alas, her grip failed her and Telma was loose to stumble forward into the clear. Ilia gasped in terror as the deformed bar lady made her way across the open toward the glowing stones and alerted Riders.

Ilia could see the disbelief in the Commander's glowing scarlet eyes as the dwarfish Telma, almost imp-like in her mannerisms, strode toward him and his company.

Telma spoke, saying, "Have you no idea what this place means. O Captain of the Twilight?"

Ilia shouted after her friend, "Telma, wait!" Finally, she caught up saying, "What do you think you're doing, provoking them like that? You could be killed!"

Telma ignored Ilia and regarded the bearded one. In a language that Ilia never thought Telma capable to possess, she spoke. Confusion resounded in the Captain's expression and he simply stared, though slowly his scarlet eyes brightened as he began to understand. _Was Telma's gibberish their language?_

As Ilia could not persuade her friend otherwise, she chose instead to plead with the stranger, "Please, sir. My friend is not well. She has been transformed and I do not know how to help her. Her name is Telma."

The Captain's eyes descended onto the Lady Mayor. Eventually, he spoke in a deep resonating voice, "She has been cursed." Ilia fell silent, filled with gloom.

The bearded Captain continued, "It is likely that this form is born from the evil that my company seeks to destroy."

"Can you help her?" asked Ilia, hope rising in her voice. Then, Telma cut in with the stranger's language. She was clearly irritated, demanding the Captain's audience. The shadow Rider appeared to have considered it as he dismounted his dark steed. Those creatures upon which the victors rode were unlike any that Ilia had seen before. They were dark, featureless. There was no beauty that Ilia could see like she saw in a horse.

She thought of Maeyn, the mare from Ordona. Thoughts of the beautiful horse eventually melted into thoughts of Link. Thoughts of Link transpired into the thoughts of her original mission in seeking out his past, his family. By the time Ilia shook those thoughts away for the sake of the moment, she realized that Telma had disappeared into the lines of Dark victors. The Captain, as it seemed had taken the Castle Towner in a private audience, to treat in a language that Telma had never spoken before. That is, one that she had never chosen to speak before.

Strange tidings and stranger results. She had much to learn of these victors and the significance of this mysterious structure that suddenly rose from the grass as if awakened by the presence of the Riders. Eventually, with the eyes of the company cast upon her, Ilia wandered toward the structures. Up close, they were indeed very tall and ancient. The magic that pulsated from it was shown by the glowing blue glyphs that nearly matched those that adorned the skin and armour of the Riders. Upon the stones and within the glyphs was a story that Ilia longed to learn. She wished for the insight to decipher that hidden legend. Ilia wondered if the strangers could read the stones, if they were holding it to themselves. She raised an open palm to run it along the warm rock. Murmurs, indistinguishable and incoherent, sounded throughout the ranks of victorious Riders. Ilia decided to withhold her touch, though the temptation was present and commanding.

Instead she sat. For many a long moment, Ilia of Ordona sat and stared at the stones, allowing her mind to wander and weave in between the circular patterns those mysterious stones provided. All the while, the Shadow Riders, as she came to call them, sat proudly upon their steeds of darkness, watching over her. Then, for the first time during these tragic past weeks, she felt safe, secured.

Still, Ilia wondered.

First, of her children laying motionless, caught in an endless limbo between life and death, as Telma had called it. Then of the countless others that joined them. Ilia wondered about her position in all the events that had transpired. How had she traversed from lonely lover and burdened mother to warrior and sole surviving member of her clan, her people of the South. So many had perished or were lost and because of that, Ilia felt guilt upon her breast. Heavy was the shame, as both a leader and a mother. She had failed as both.

She did all she could, yet it was not adequate. The Goddesses found no favour in Ilia's life beyond the misery she bore.

_Was this my punishment for longing for another? For my desire to learn of Link and his family's history?_

Or did the Golden Three find favour after all, blessing her with the ability to avoid death and resist the Mistress's curse. If so, then where did she fit in these divine machinations? She then wondered of Telma and her transformation. What was her role in the scheme?

Eventually, misery and morbid curiosity won over patience and Ilia rose, approaching the nearest rock, her hand outstretched. She wanted to feel it, she wanted to know.

Firmly, Ilia placed her fair, open palm onto the glowing rock.

Then, all senses left her and all thoughts became one. Ilia's mind traversed time and space and beyond. Eventually, she found herself within an ethereal plain, separated of all things natural. A vast whiteness, free of pain, emotion, or gravity. Within this realm of the mind, Ilia felt calm, collected, whole.

She saw a man, tall and cloaked in black. Raised was his tall hood, but for no great amount of time. As if warned by her presence, the man turned and lowered the cloth. Ilia's mouth fell open when she saw what appeared to be the face of Link, only bearded, aged, and filled with misery. No, she thought, that couldn't be him. Given the resemblance, that man could not have been the one Ilia loved. He was aged far beyond the thirteen years. His nose did not narrow to a point, but was instead rounded and small. Alerted, the man cast back his cloak to reveal the Golden Crest of Hyrule and a silver sword pommel protruding.

It was not Link at all, but his father, Rech Equaballus! Swiftly, he drew the silver blade and made ready his stance before charging. Ilia wanted to scream but could not fathom how. Rech raised his weapon and weighed his charge further. Just then, another figure emerged, a tall, gentle-looking creature with pale flesh and swirled darkness that covered it. Crimson were its eyes, much like those of the Dark Riders, only without armour to defend it. Ilia then realized that it was not she the Knight of Hyrule was attacking, but this dark being that had appeared. With a moan and protesting arms, the creature cowered as Rech ran his blade through its chest. Ilia stepped back in shock as the gentle creature moaned its last before falling. No blood ran along the Knight's blade. Another figure appeared and took flight away from the charging Hylian. Only this one was overtaken and cast to the ground before Rech raised his weapon and cleaved the being's shrouded head from its pale shoulders. On wrought the father of Link, swinging and slaying with ease, until countless dead lay about him, his blade unsullied. A small child, plump and wide-eyed stared at the Hylian as he approached it. Ilia tried to run, to save the child, but all fell away, giving into a bright light as Rech's final stroke fell.

Ilia soon found herself within another plane of the mind, set before the massive risen stones. The glyphs upon the rock glowed before her, arranging themselves into a legible script:

* * *

_The Gods give blessing to the Children of the Strong._

_The Hero of Light is a hero no more, yet his destiny remains unfulfilled._

_In his travels, great perils await, though none may understand, for none seek to understand._

_The former Hero seeks what he cannot find in these native lands._

_In these perils, the Child of the Strong shall find her will challenged and her rule upset._

_Fire and storm shall take Hyrule, the Native Land._

_And only the Strong shall weather it though no sanctuary be found._

_Twilight descended and was removed by he who was blessed._

_However, in the lands beyond recognition, a new enemy is at play._

_Of the four directions, they rally and plot, though unwillingly so._

_And He Who Was Blessed is blessed no more._

_She is of four. She is of Darkness and of Light._

_She governs the heavens, yet her eyes have fallen to govern the land._

_She is of Four._

_And She will have all._

* * *

"However briefly." Ilia turned and saw that Telma was with her, joined in the ethereal. She did not question her friend's ability to do so. There was much to learn about Telma in this new state.

"What do you mean?" asked Ilia.

"Brief is too general a term for the Goddesses who live an eternity," quipped Telma as she floated toward Ilia, a smile upon her face.

"What do you know, my friend?" wondered Ilia aloud.

Telma's smile widened, "More that you think."

"Will you explain?" Ilia was hopeful and Telma nodded.

"The Mistress is no fool. She is the antithesis of the Golden Power, its reflection, its negative. She is immortal. She cannot be killed by the craft or machinations of the living. She cannot be ended by the conscious intents of the willful. She is formless and deceptive, though the portrayal of a feeble young beauty is ironically befitting of Her Will. Directly, She brings weakness where there is Power and ignorance where there is Wisdom, also fear where there is the slightest ounce of Courage. This is how She gains Her influence."

Ilia began to understand her foe, that which stole her former life.

Telma continued, "Of the Four Directions, North, South, East and West, she extends that influence. In the Southern Lands of Fell where the Black Beast Men and Dragon-riders dwell, The Mistress used Power to win their fealty and drain theirs for Her use.  
In the North, the The Republic of Aerij wield the flying technologies. They were a courageous people of strong wills, but their Courage was broken by the Mistress who then seized their strength.

To the East, in the misty lands Leeror, Wisdom reigned supreme, though the Mistress used her previous influence to dull that gift and use it for Her own. The people there remain loyal to their craft, though, as you have seen, their betrayal has failed to weaken the Potent Mistress.

The West, beyond the Great Sea, through the fabrics of dimensions, another land, one of balance, a sister to Hyrule, is where the Fates of all will be decided. Termina is the Key that must yet be turned to end the Mistress and her Rule. Though this land is sealed by her evil, the Mistress and her Chaos can only be undone upon those shores."

Ilia simply stared in wonderment at the depth of Telma's knowledge and understanding. She asked, "Is what you say true? Can this evil be undone?"

Telma nodded, "All evil can be righted and all Chaos can be brought into order."

"What is her goal and purpose?" Telma was solemn for that moment. Ilia pressed, "Telma?"

"There is no reason for Chaos to spread beyond the simple will to spread. Things, simply, are. Just as the Mistress, simply, is."

Rage suddenly filled the Lady Mayor, "How can this be? My people, my country, my children suffer for nothing? For a mere whim?"

Telma was silent as Ilia's heart began to beat its way out of her chest to no avail. But instead of feeding the anger, Ilia simply asked, "What is our purpose here, Telma? Why do we live and walk while others are lost? Why do you carry this curse?"

Telma closed her eyes and breathed deeply, "I asked myself that same question. To that, I received a prompt response: a sacrifice had to be made. I was made to choose between carrying this curse and guiding you, or remaining whole and be lost like the others."

Ilia could not place the proper words to complement her shock and affection. Simply, she whispered, "Thank you."

Telma smiled once more, "Think nothing of it, hun. Now you are wondering what your place is among the die of Fate."

"I am," replied Ilia, listening intently.

"You," began Telma, "are a Child of the Strong, the final illumination when all other lights are faded. I am the one chosen to guide you through the darkness." Ilia struggled to understand.

Telma continued, "The Hero of Light is destined to face the same evil as us. Your fate intertwines with his, but never meets at the end. Your love for him and your desire to discover him are what have led us up to this point. His role as the Hero is over, his blessing faded. That torch has been passed on in these dark times."

"To me?" asked Ilia with surprise.

"No, dear. To your children: the son and daughter of Ilia and Aeadis of Ordona. Your destiny is to raise them in good knowledge, strength, and with great courage seeded into their hearts."

"But my children," whispered Ilia in protest, "are lost. How can I retrieve them?"

Telma took Ilia's tender hand and said, "You will know when the time comes." She gave the maiden's hand a gentle squeeze, "and I will be with you the entire way."

"We are with you," came a deep voice from the white void. A tall, dark figure emerged, the weight of its armoured boots echoing across the plains. The Captain of Twilight, his helm cradled and his cloak dragging along some invisible solid ground, came into view. Behind him, in a mechanical cacophony, were the remaining two-hundred of his company. Their helms were donned and their conjured spears were sharp. They were prepared for battle, their lit eyes shining like fires between mantled shoulders.

Ilia was astounded by the lordly sight. Nevertheless, she turned to Telma and stated, "Even with an army of guides, I am lost."

Telma replied, "You have followed Link onto this point, though now his trail grows cold. I suggest that you continue your search before all is lost."

"I am unsure of where to begin," Ilia confessed weakly.

Telma then regarded the Riders, "These are the Twilit Knights of the Realm. They are loyal to the Twilight, that very darkness that engulfed our world those many years ago."

"That darkness that threatened my village and brought harm upon the living in these lands?" asked Ilia.

Telma sighed deeply, solemnly, but before she could answer, another voice rose, "The same." The deep cords of the tall Twilight Rider echoed through the ethereal. He approached Ilia with a slow and deliberate gait. His height was imposing, his eyes piercing. Then, suddenly, the figure lowered himself onto one plated knee, saying, "I am Darsek, Captain of the Guard, defender of the Twilight, servant to the one and only Ruler of the Twilight."

Ilia remained weary, but the man continued therewith, "On behalf of my Queen and my fallen people, I extend to the Light, our most grieved apologies, for we, like this world presently, were cursed and forced to do harm upon those which we had no quarrel. Our beloved Queen speaks of great honour held within the Light and I have seen it, fought along side it, admired it."

"Link?" Ilia suddenly realized of whom this Darsek spoke. "You've fought with Link?"

"Lord Link, one chosen and loved by my Queen, has brought us good fortune and victory in battle. He is as our legends speak: a sacred beast, giving himself for the salvation of all."

"Do you know where he has gone?" Ilia stepped forward, placing a tense hand upon the Captain's shelled shoulder.

"With my Queen in behind him, they go to face the Evil One in the South, to demand her grip relinquished, to contest with her. With regret, my company was forced from her side by her command alone. To help defend the dwellers of Light. I fear that my Lord and Lady have fallen into darkness." The Captain lowered his head in shame.

Ilia warmed her smile and softened the hand on Darsek's shoulder. She bade him rise and thus, she spoke, "The World of Light as you know it is greatful, or at least it will be when peace is restored. We must hence ride South and liberate our friends and allies from those stricken lands, my land fallen."

Darsek rose to his full commanding height, saying, "It appears that mutual interest has seen our destinies bound, Lady..."

"Ilia," completed she. "I am Ilia of Ordona, and a Lady I am no more. I am but a grieving mother and mayor of a dead village."

"That may be, but nevertheless, Ilia of Ordona, we shall stand with you and ride to liberate those who hold our hearts dear." Darsek placed his gauntleted wrist firmly across his breast plate, bowing his head.

"Though it is likely," added Ilia, "that we ride to our doom."

"Then so be it!" growled Darsek. "If this is to be our end, then the Knights of the Twilit Banner shall make such an end as to make the Gods weep in remembrance!" Captain Darsek wheeled around and raised his armoured fist into the air, shouting in his native tongue. The remaining two-hundreds of men responded with equal tenacity.

They were ready to die. Ilia was not. Telma placed her own swollen hand upon the Lady Mayor's shoulder and said, "Don't worry, hun. You will be reunited with your children soon." Darsek tuned his tall head to Telma and nodded. The cursed woman returned the gesture and closed her eyes. Before Ilia could figure out what Telma was doing, the light of the ethereal plane intensified, engulfing all into a brilliant warm flame.

* * *

There was no pain, nor anguish. She felt the sudden rush of gravity and her feet gently landing not upon earth or grass, but upon cold, hard gleaming steel. Long was the chrome hall that she had appeared in, distant she felt from the sacred stones that carried the legend within them. _Where am I, wondered she. Perhaps the stones projected me to this strange gleaming place._ About her, the gentle humming that defied explanation resonated from beyond the steel walls. Quickly, she ignored the sound and realized that she was alone.

"Telma?" she called. "Telma, are you there?" a moan rose from the floor and Ilia glanced there to see an unmoving Telma, her brow ran with sweat. Ilia wanted to cry for help, but no other person or living thing was seen within the gleaming hallways. Even the Twilit Knights were nowhere to be seen.

"_Ilia,_" a voice, hauntingly familiar came from over her shoulder. Ilia turned and saw that she was face-to-face with one that she loved and one that she lost.

She turned to see deep brown eyes and long curled brown hair.

She turned to meet the face of Aeadis.

* * *

Author's Note: I hope that the prophecy and Telma's purpose/reason for being deformed (cursed) all make sense now. If not, I will admit failure and explain in my own words.

Regards,

-Justin.


	28. The Sword of the Mistress

**Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Sword of the Mistress**

* * *

Fell deeds awaited the Twilit Knights of the Realm as they materialized along the valley's edge. The many beasts crowded in the trough below took notice of the converging Shadow on high and turned to face it. Foul voices and evil cries sounded from cursed and enslaved throats, all in protest to that noble force. The Beast Men of Fell and their resurrected Messenger counterparts ground their dark feet into the sullied, ashen ground, making ready both claw and blade and mind for battle to come. In foreign tongues the Men from Fell spoke, cursing amongst themselves; laughing, for they were many and the Twilit Knights were few. Tenaciously would they defend the Mistress and her Great Ship.

From on high, along the lip of the Ordon Valley, Captain Darsek surveyed the rabble below, guarding the massive Ship that dwarfed the many others that drifted about. The Black Beasts were indeed alerted, but it mattered not. And so he turned to his noble few, his brethren of Blessed Twilight and to them he spoke, "Our hour, my brothers, is at hand! Form lines and prepare yourselves, O Riders of Sunset Skies, sons of Sacred Twilight! A great many foes and wildfires rage ahead of you while our Realm smoulders behind. Yet, though we fight on the Plains of harsh Light, the glory we reap here shall be ours for all of eternity, be it spoken or written. We shall be remembered! We have sworn fealty to our Beloved Queen, She of the Shadows and we fulfill them on this eve!"

The Twilit Knights drew faces of brooding and steel. Low grumbles echoed beyond their helms. Oaths they did swear to Midna and those Oaths they intended to keep. With black gauntlets raise, the magics of their fallen people were conjured and the sharpened craft of war appeared as the Knights did upon the lip of the Valley. Into those open palms did sword, axe, spear, and shield fit.

Darsek's short blade cut the air and his voice bellowed,

_Hark! Greet eternity, Riders of Midna!_

_There is naught but slaughter and ruin that await us!_

_Flesh shorn by our blades and pierced by our spears,_

_The enemy to be worn upon our shaken shields!_

_Ride now with me, my Brothers!_

_Holders of Sacred Twilight!_

_Born of the Red Sunset!_

_Ride with me to our foe's ruin and our glory!_

_For the Queen!_

Like thunder, the dark hooves of their steeds pounded. Like a river restrained, the remaining two-hundred poured into the scarred valley. Like lightening did they cleave into the awaiting lines of Men and Messenger alike. Blade and axe waved and cast the hewn bodies of their foes to the ground to be trampled. Spear and spell were hurled, all struck home within the chests of the mindless Black Menace. Furious were the slashing two-hundred, the remainder of the proud numbers that lay slain behind them. For each comrade that fell, be it in the fields of Eldin, the dust of Kakariko, the rock of Death Mountain, or the wet grasses of the North, the Twilit Knight wrought great casualties to repay that lost blood tens of times over again.

Beneath the charge, no stout Men from Fell, nor cursed Messenger foe; not a chieftain or a ship or dragon, their flames burning hot, could withstand the fury of Twilight. The Black lines broke before the Riders of Midna, as the river overtakes the dike. Their fury consumed the first lines of ravaging Beasts. Deep was the swath that Darsek and his Knights cut through the line. With shield raised on high, Darsek called a rally to his fellow riders, who lowered their spears.

The Captain sounded a second charge before the first could lull. But the Twilit Knights never did lull in combat and the second charge was merely an extension of the first. More Beast Men collapsed and more Messenger foes fell. However, the lines were deep and thick and no more charges could break them any further.

Eventually, despite the ferocity and strength of Darsek and his Twili, the Black Numbers held fast, lashing offensively back at the attackers. Still, he pressed, seeking new foes to hew and slay.

* * *

"Father?" whispered a perplexed Link.

"Linkse," replied Rech Equaballus.

"My name... is Linkse?"

"Yes, son. Long have I wished to be reunited with you. My name is Rech, your father." The man's voice was rasped, his eyes a deep, sunken blue, but strong. Many a year and battle were behind them.

Still, Link had to ask, "Father? I thought you were gone, long dead."

The older man chuckled gently,"No, Linkse. I live, and the Name of the Noble Horse shall do so forever, lest my Mistress deem otherwise."

"Your Mistress?" pondered Link, his arms still bound the pillar behind him. The brooding thoughts within his mind led him to conclude a horrible revelation, "You mean The Mistress of Four? You belong to her?"

Rech nodded before placing his heavy hand upon Link's shoulder, "Son, she will have all. However, her eyes have set upon you, a mighty warrior. She wishes to have you, to grant you the same lenience she has granted me. She wishes to allow Chaos to reign, but not without you and I at her side."

Link spat, anger boiling within him, "I will not subject myself to the likes of her! How do I know that you are my father? How do I know that your blood runs through my veins?"

"Why not ask your...creature of Twilight?" suggested Rech. "I am sure that her foresight grants her much more than she pleases to unveil."

Link then noticed that, held firmly in the gloved hands of Link's father, was the crown of stone and ruby that adorned Midna's forehead. Link's heart bounded and he turned his head to and fro, "Where is Midna? What have you done to her!"

"Peace, my son," said the tall man. "She is unharmed for now. My Mistress will not allow me to dispatch of her so readily. Not before all of Twilight is gathered to receive its punishment." Rech halted his speech and regarded a descending metal harness, upon which Midna was bound, her cloak removed and her bare skin and shadow exposed. The vivid strands of her hair most fire-like hung lifelessly before her breasts. Her crown was, indeed, no longer in place. The vibrant sunsets that served as her wonderful eyes were dim, half-focused. The harness halted abruptly and the old Knight then said, "The Aerij and the beauty of their technologies lie not in design nor in function, but in efficiency." At that, the suspended harness creaked and shifted closer to the bound former hero and his father. Again, the machine halted with an abrupt grind, jarring Midna's body. With a groan, the Queen of Twilight raised her head and her eyes focused, finding new life.

She saw her hero, "Link! Don't believe what he says!"  
Rech placed a heavy hand upon Midna's harness. With a whir, the bars displaced and pressed against her, sending waves of pain through her slender body. Midna did not scream, but barred her fangs in protest.

"Stop! Father!" Link bellowed as if his own body was subjected to anguish.

"So now I am your father? In the presence of this filth?" Rech Equaballus tightened his grip and sent more pain through Midna. This time, her fangs loosened and a scream shot out. Eventually, the pain stopped and Midna collapsed, held by the instruments of her torture alone. Link longed for them to release her.

"Why? Why father?"

"Look into her eyes, Linkse. How can you love one that My Mistress has deemed unfit to live?"

"No, I will not-"

"Gaze upon their extinction, Linkse," ordered Rech, who then declared, "they are unfit to grace the world that Chaos will provide."

Link looked pleadingly into Midna's tear-washed eyes. She gazed back at him. Sadly, Midna said, "Your father is not himself, Link. There is no escape once one has been taken."

Link shook his head, "How can you know this?"

Midna replied, "When one becomes blessed with Light, one can gain more than another."

At that, Link felt his mind wander. His thoughts traversed both time and space.

Link found himself standing next to Rech under a great oak that oversaw the fields of Lanayru Province. A younger sun hung in the sky. In the distance there was a house of stone, quaint and humble. White smoke bellowed from the small chimney. A great horse stood silently by the garden that adorned the front yard while the mighty forest occupied the rear. This feels too familiar, thought Link who took no notice of Midna's absence, for his was lost within translation. The forest. That house....

The smoke halted its flow and the warm-looking abode dimmed. The sun quickly set.

Link then found himself within his old home's stone walls. Upon a large bed lay a woman. Her fairness took even Link's breath away. Blue were her sad eyes and long were her golden locks, a vision of true beauty. Pale and sickly did her skin appear as a single tear rode along side her small nose that narrowed to a point, much like Link's. A young man and a small child appeared next to the bed and its stricken occupant. The man was handsome and strong. He wore the black and silver of the Hyrulean Knights. The child was quiet and wide-eyed. He wore a white shirt that was loosely bound for the sake of the spring warmth. Like his mother, the child's eyes were a deep blue, though they betrayed no sadness. The child simply stood quietly by as the tall man knelt, placing his strong, bare hands upon the gentle paled ones of the fair lady. She breathed heavily and her lips whispered a phrase that did not reach Link's ears.

"Do you remember your home, Linkse?"

"Home." Link could not remember this little stone house as being such. Home was always in Ordon, now burned and forsaken of care. Still, old memories traced vivid lines, connections in his mind, "This was my home?"

"Our home, Linkse. Your mother and I, together. I, a Knight and she, a fair lady. You, a brave, strong lad." The older man chuckled with happy memories before his expression darkened.

The fair hand became limp and the heavy breathing was stayed. The woman's chest rose no more and her eyes were closed forever. The man bowed his golden head, gripping the tender still hand tightly. After a moment, the man, the younger vision of Rech Equaballus, rose and led his child out the single wooden door, to the mighty steed waiting outside. Before long, the young Linkse was upon the horse's back while Rech set their home aflame.

Together, both father and son rode South, toward Ordon. Swiftly and without rest until the sun's setting.

The Hour of Twilight saw an unfortunate event that came to pass on that sad day, for before Rech could traverse the Forest of Faron fully, they fell under attack. As the steed trotted through the narrow pathway, a darted shaft struck it through the hind leg, causing the beast to rear, casting off its charge. Another shaft was sent through the man's shoulder, above the lung. Rech and Linkse were thrown violently to the ground while their wounded horse galloped away in frightful madness.

As Rech rose, shot but strong. He took notice that his son was unmoving, though his heart and chest still paced. Before the man could go to aid his fallen dearest blood, several hooded men rose from the tree lines. Darkened were their painted faces and drawn were their daggers. Thieves, thought Link. And thieves they were, demanding all that Rech and his son possessed. In response, the grieving Knight threw back his dark cloak and drew his black and silver sword, readying his stance of combat. The thieves hesitated, but decided their action at once: they charged.

With ease and equal swiftness, Rech stood by his fallen son, parrying and slashing at will. He gave himself to the blade and to combat, each dodge met with an offensive thrust. Five thieves there were with intent. None remained standing after Rech's final blow fell and his silver sword became taint, running with foul blood while his own blood ran freely from the early wound. His strength ebbed, but the warrior nevertheless gathered his son, wrapping him in the robe of a fallen thief before tending to his own wound.

For nearly three hours, Rech carried his son, shielding him from the rains that began to fall heavily upon them. Even the skies wept, as it seemed, for the young ones who had loved and lost.

Eventually, the lights of Ordona shone from below the lip of the Valley. Weary with wound and travel, Rech walked through the quiet streets. No soul took notice until the Knight chose to knock upon the wooden doors of the large hut beyond the windmill. In the Common Tongue, the sign read, Mayor Bo's House. Seeking sanctuary for his son, Rech pounded heavily upon the supposed Mayor's door. He winced as the wound's tend failed to hold and began to run once more. A small pool had formed upon the steps before the door was opened. A young woman who was pregnant with child had answered. The tall man and his blood running free did startle at first, but she paid heed to Rech's pleading as the man sunk to his knees weak with both wound and grief.

It was on that night, in that house, that Link was given to Ordon. The Knight whispered, "Fare thee well, my young Linkse. May we be reunited again someday."

At that, Rech Equaballus rose and thanked the kind-hearted lady, though he never gave her his name. As quietly as he entered Ordon, so did Rech leave it, following the path beyond where the dead thieves lay. He wandered into the wood, his strength spent, his mind weary. He fought with himself, whether it was to return to Ordon to be with his son or to wander and die, to be with his fair bride once more was unsure. The nature of the wound and spent strength had decided and the brave man fell onto the soft, wet moss.

A voice most enticing entered him,

_Noble Horseman, defender of the Realm, hear me._

Rech's eyes remained closed, but he answered, "I hear thee, O Fate. Take me now and let me feel joy once more."

The alluring voice then said,

_Grant thy servitude to me, your Mistress. Do mine bidding and thy will feel mine Grace._

Rech answered, "I give you mine Silver Sword and I will serve thee willingly, should thou let me feel joy once more." He rose with new life and knelt before the beauty that appeared before him.

Time passed for thirteen years. Across vast oceans and the slow stretch of progression were the deeds of Rech Equaballus felt. A willing servant to the Mistress and her most valued instrument to win the hearts and minds of the many nations that followed Her, had sworn fealty, as he did, to her.

To the savage lands of Fell, Rech crossed mountains and rainforest. With sword in hand and potent rage within his heart, the Knight drew blood and forced the seven largest tribes of Beast Men into submission, swearing their love to the Mistress.

In the vast cities and technological wonders of the Aerij, men of strong will and ingenuity, Rech had sown the seeds of doubt. For many years, those seeds blossomed into the suffocating vines of distrust. With relative ease, the minds of the Aerij were weak with distrust and poised by the black words of the Mistress and her speech craft. Once courageous, they sanctioned their minds to her will.

Termina, the Land of Balance, Hyrule's sister that lay beyond the fabrics of realms, was not set aflame, but forced into submission by Rech's hand and word. The Zora, Goron and Human tribes suffered the Mistress to pass, granting her fealty.

The dunes and barren lands of Leeror submitted not to the courage of the Aerij, nor the propaganda of the Mistress, but her strength alone, through the arms of her treasured Knight.

For thirteen years, it was Rech Equaballus, the servant of the cursed Mistress of the Four directions, that aided in her supremacy. Link felt the cold stir of his disgust that curled within the pit of his being. But the story of his lost father continued well into the Twilight.

Across another fabric, into the aesthetic Realm of Eternal Sunset.

Before long, Link was standing amid the dim beauty of the Twilight Realm as it once was. No blue fire consumed the tall obsidian architecture and no death was found among the drifting isles. He turned his head and saw not his father in his older age, but found Midna instead standing with him. She was no longer bound to the rack of torture, but clad in her garment of royalty, her crown placed firmly once more upon her regal forehead. Link tried to reach out to take her into his arms, but he could not, for the Midna he knew, it was not. It was a figment of the past, perhaps from his Queen's own memory.

Rech was standing amid the weary crowd of Twili. Curious were they of the Being of Light that appeared as if from nowhere. Link saw Midna's face rise from sad indifference to joy at the man whose likeness resembled he whom she loved. She ran down to greet him, to embrace him, to love him. Alas, she held back, for a terrible deed took place. She watched as that figure robed in black, drew a silver sword and began to cut into her people that had gathered around his presence. Dread fill Link's heart as he watched his own father slaying the helpless Twili with his blade. He saw Midna's shock dissolve into terror. Moans of fear and death approaching, reached Link's ears. Midna shouted a great lament, her heart breaking visibly before the former hero.

Darsek appeared behind her, as the Queen grieved. In the native tongue of the Twili, the Captain urged his ruler on to safety, for the guards could not withhold the fury of the black figure. Into the drifting city did Link's father charge, hewing and slashing.

Link watched as his regal Queen, trailed by her loyal Captain and his noble six-hundred, led the way into the plaza where the slaughter began. Suddenly, the former hero witnessed his own naked appearance into the Realm, his wish to be reunited with Midna granted. She approached him, as if she was expecting his company. With a royal calmness, the Queen of Twilight softened her gaze and went to her true hero. It was then that the blue fires began to consume, to destroy. The many isles that once drifted freely had begun to fall away into darkness.

A great bright light shone from nowhere. It consumed all within the veil of its majesty. So bright were the beams that even Link as he was observing shielded his own eyes against the vision.

He opened his eyes and realized that he had returned to the confines of his bonds within the Mistress's Airship. It was as if he had never left. His arms were bound as they were when he was captured. Midna was suspended still from the instruments of torture.

Link glanced up to meet the aged gaze of his father, the mighty warrior; the bane of many nations; the murderer. Contempt filled his heart and the longing to be free, to strike down the one man who tortured his love so.

Father or not, Link vowed again to avenge his love and her Realm. He vowed to rid the Mistress of her prized instrument.

Suddenly, a great many cries were heard outside the ship's hull, breaking the silence. Rech stood still and listened as the clashing a blades and throes of death grew loud and commanding. From her suspended position, Midna chuckled and grinned, baring her fangs once more, "My Knights. My loyal Knights ride against your Mistress, old traitor."

The old Equaballus turned to face the weakened Queen, "So it has been foreseen. Fitting to rid the taint of Twilight in one place at one time. The Fleets of Aerij shall sweep the entire Valley with molten flame. Only you shall be left for last."

Midna chuckled once more, as if madness had taken her, stripped her of concern. She spoke, "The Sky does not abandon its allegiances. You can never stop the sun from setting."

Enraged, Rech drew his silver blade and raised it against the Twilight Queen. Link could not curse or plea in any tongue of man or beast that could have stayed his father's swing.

Alas, the old traitor's stroke fell.


	29. The Setting Sun

**Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Setting Sun**

* * *

Captain Darsek rallied his men to him. Though deep was their penetration of the Foul Lines, ever in strength did the Foe grow. For each enemy that was hewn, several more would fall into its place, a near endless stroke of endurance. And Darsek knew that he could not keep up his stride for long. Worn were his Knights, who slew and fell all about him. The Banner of Twilight, as Darsek saw to his mortification, was severed from the hand of its capable bearer and trod upon by the muddy boots of his enemies. Rage boiled within the Captain and all the while he slashed and impaled his way into the fray upon his steed of darkness. Through armoured chests, his conjured spear smote and through exposed necks did his short blade chew. Until he reached the fallen Banner, did Darsek relent in his lust and dismount his beast. Gathering the broken pole and shadowy cloth into his gauntlets, Darsek of the Twilit Knight of the Realm carried it high in one hand what riding and slaying with the other. Under two-hundreds of his force remained, all falling to some inexorable fate.

"To me! To me!" called the Captain. "Stand and slay and die like the Noble Twilight you are, for the Queen!"

Shouts of jovial response answered him and hearts were lightened.

"Before our end, each Knight must swear to me five and tens worth of necks of these fell creatures! Any more is also good, by right."

At that, his men laughed and were heartened further, slaying with great force and increased lust. For the blood of the Enemy, they coveted and for the blood of the Enemy, they received. Grievous were the losses of the Mistress, but ever-slow did the last charge of the Twili become before it was marred by a firmer ring of foes, this time impenetrable.

Before much time had passed, the moon became concealed and the hopes of his men began to sink once more.

Then, Darsek looked to the skies and saw many Black Ships descending upon him.

In a moment's time, the fires of those vessels would sweep the valley, burning all: friend and foe alike. With this in mind, Captain Darsek turned to the massive airship that dwarfed the Black ones drifting overhead. To his Queen whom he knew was inside its bulkheads, Darsek bowed his head and bade her farewell, for all hope in that moment seemed lost.

* * *

"_Ilia,_" whispered Aeadis. His voice ran like silk through her heated ears. He was alive! Alive and well, without blemish or wound. Shock gave way to realization, and realization was what thrust Ilia into her husband's arms. For a long moment, they held their embrace and she was granted a moment's respite; her first amid the darkened times. With Aeadis' strong arms about her, hope and life returned to her breast and she placed a tender kiss upon her tall man's soft lips. Within that gleaming hallways of steel, Aeadis shone like an angel, a god and she did not question how or why. His body was warm and his voice, warmer.

_Have I passed on?_ wondered Ilia as her husband gently grasped her small trembling hand.

"Come, my love. Our children await." He led her away from Telma who still lay motionless upon the stainless floor. Ilia hesitated for the moment for the sake of her friend, her guide. Then the inquiries rose.

"What about Telma?" asked she with unbridled innocence. Lost was Ilia in those moments of perplexed bliss, "We cannot leave her here." Then, Ilia widened her jade eyes and wondered aloud, though she felt that she knew the answer, "Where, in fact, are we?"

Aeadis simply smiled and said, "All that matters is that the children are safe, bless their souls. If you would only allow me to guide you to them. Your friend will not be harmed."

Ilia felt the pain of lamentation swell within her. Despite the events of Castle Town, she was taken well within Aeadis's deep brown eyes and did not question him further. With her hand in his, Aeadis led her across a threshold into a chamber that was strewn with impenetrable darkness. Silence crept, shadow overwhelmed and Ilia became afraid.

So it was until a feint green light broke the darkness but then grew in intensity. Ilia focused upon a bright emerald flame, suspended in the air, as if by some devilry. Soon she saw that there was not one, but a pair of glowing flames drifting aimlessly about.

Then from the fire she heard the voices. Distant, but clear all the same. The voices of small children stricken of their mother. They called to her: Mommy! Mama!

They were voices that shattered Ilia's heart and cast it into her stomach and corroded her fear, her reason to remain still.

"Hector! Gira!" Called the Lady Mayor as she went forward and sought to approach the flames, to touch them. Try as she did, the hold of Aeadis was firm and unyielding. He squeezed her hand until it hurt.

He said to her, "Calm your heart, my dearest. There is no longer any need to worry. Our children," he regarded the pair of drifting green flames, "and their souls are quite safe in the hands of our Mistress."

"The Mistress?"

The dark room was then illuminated, casting all shadow away into a vast gleaming emptiness. Before Ilia and Aeadis was a sight to behold. Lo! There was a figure that sat proudly upon a throne of steel. A true regal beauty clad in silver dress. No crown sat upon the lovely platinum head of long flowing hair. Though there were no eyes that stared, Ilia could feel the cold hardness of the woman's glare. Those eyes were but empty windows into absolute despair. No expression was traced upon her fine, lush lips and no crease dared to form across her beautiful visage. With one smooth hand, the woman, held two fingers upon her chest while the other hand was held out. Between long elegant fingers the fiery souls did weave, leaving misty trails behind them. Though the light of the room dulled that which emanated from the souls, their captured voice rang the truer.

In spite of the Mistress and her commanding presence, Ilia was not stayed, as the voices of Hector and Gira broke all bonds of fear and weakness. Swiftly she took her hand away from Aeadis and took a pace forward, demanding, "Release my children at once!"

Aeadis moved to take Ilia's hand once more, "We cannot allow that, my love." His eyes were hard, but lined with sadness.

Ilia turned to face her husband, not with anger, but with confusion and a sadness of her own, "What do you mean?"

A voice, like an angel of music, sang from the steel throne:

_Of the Children Strong, whom the Three have blessed to see mine end,  
Their souls I have ensnared.  
Their kin, like Righteous Hyrule, shall feel the breath of the Abyss.  
A mother grieved and a father lost,  
To servitude worthy of merit  
Shall never suffer their loves to pass._

"No..." Ilia came to understand and painfully so. She watched as Aeadis bowed his head and knelt upon his knee before the throne of steel where the Mistress sat. Ilia began to shudder. The Mistress spoke once more:

_Feeble though he may be,  
The Son of Fortune has thus redeemed his quality._

Tears ran down Aeadis' handsome face while many began to flow from Ilia's. In a fit of anger, she began to strike him, to kick and glance furious blows upon his flanks and back.

"You bastard! You cur!" Ilia cursed Aeadis through clenched teeth and searing misery. She hated him. While she struck and cursed, she wept, mourning her loss with each delivered blow.

The Mistress sang:

_Though at first unwilling, he who once called himself thy love, hath seen truth.  
Through clear vision, he hath seen the fires that hath come  
And the fires that have yet to burn.  
Try as he might to preserve his family, one choice was left.  
Of wife or of children, the lost husband was made to choose.  
Thus, in sending thou away upon the fruitless path of former times  
He spared thee, though upon the Fire's Dawn, he elected to defy me.  
To save his children, a forgettable endeavour.  
The Children of the Strong have thus ceased to govern mine wills.  
Their souls be mine, their mother be hapless and their father succumbed.  
Poetic be thy fates amid the Chaos to come._

Through teary eyes, Ilia watched as the Mistress smiled a beautiful yet damning grin. Even she of little ambition beyond the unleashing of Entropy found amusement in its darkness.

_Doest thou wish to seen thine love, O Mother of the Strong?_

At that moment, a large hissing sensation filled the chamber and the entire wall behind Ilia began to part. The hissing faded and from behind the separating barrier, a terrible scream of anger and lament was heard. So filled with grief was that horrible bellowing that Ilia's heart did not crumble further until she set eyes upon its source.

It was Link. Bound and chained was he to a metal pillar. A tall man cloaked in black held a large silver sword above a bound woman's head. At once, Ilia recognized the blade and its master. The silver sword and the black wears of Hyrule's Knights could not be mistaken. That man was Rech Equaballus, father of Linkse and head of the House of the Noble Horse. Tied was the woman as well, to a rack that hung from the tall ceiling. Dark was her flesh and the fiery red silk that was her hair hung down, unkempt. From her distance away, Ilia could see the glow of fierce golden eyes laced with auburn. Like sunsets they were: defiant sunsets that were fixed upon the silver blade that was held above her. There was a grin upon her dark face, set before sharp fangs and crowned with lush violet lips. She was a beautiful woman and the source of Link's anguish as the blade came down. Another cry accompanied Link's. It came from the swordsman and a deadly cry it was; like that of War, bloody and falsely glorious. Anger was seeded into that falling strike.

Ilia screamed in protest, but Lo! The blade fell all the same!

* * *

At that moment, when Rech's silver blade fell, Link's soul was torn asunder. The powerful stroke made contact with Midna's thin cheek, but did not cleave or follow through. The Blade of the Mistress was stayed against the Queen of Twilight, who continued to grin defiantly. A single bead of dark blood ran its course along the sword's sharpened edge while another ran along the slender jaw of Midna. She had been spared by the Grace of the Goddesses. It mattered little, for the drawing of Twilight blood was an act most unforgivable in the eyes of the Former Hero. Thus, Link vowed to make his executor, though a father he may be, pay for such an unjust stroke. Or, at least, to free him from the shackles of servitude. Rech then took a step back and wiped his blade clean upon his black cloak, restoring it to a mirror sheen before setting it within this gilded scabbard. The gruff voice of Rech Equaballus resonated throughout the chamber as he glared death upon Midna, "The Twili bleed thick and well and this is not the first time it has run along my blade. My Mistress wishes for the Queen to linger but a moment longer, to suffer a little more."

Midna hissed, "My suffering will be the last you inflict."

"I think not," replied the older man, turning to face the open chamber and bow to his Mistress. Link looked on, seeing the glistening beauty that was seated upon a throne of steel staring down at them. In a gown made as if out of silver, the Dreadlady herself could charm the hearts of weaker men. She had no light or colour to her eyes. They were as black pools, empty and without emotion, nor expression. About her outstretched hand were the emerald fires of lost souls. Link wondered to whom they would belong until his eyes fell upon a familiar sight. Another woman, young and beautiful with fair hair and brilliant green eyes and a worried, tearful expression about her. She was staring, open-mouthed at him.

"Ilia?" wondered he aloud. The young woman's shock and concern denoted her identity.

She then shouted, "Link!" It was, indeed, Ilia, the daughter of Ordona's mayor.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"I am here to retrieve my children." replied Ilia.

_Children!_ Thirteen years had passed and Link had never known that his old friend was a mother. Despite the terror that took place around them, Link received the tidings and his heart warmed, if only slightly so. However, his Queen was still bound, his enemy sat before him and his dishonoured father remained a thrall to that enemy. The tidings of the long lost had to wait. It was then that Ilia returned Link's question, "What are you doing here?"

To this, Link replied, "To rescue the Ruler of Hyrule and those who had followed her."

"You mean Princess Zelda?"

"The same."

The voice of the Mistress sang in interruption:

_Fruitless be not thy venture, Former Hero. For found, thine Ruler is._

From the high ceiling descended a pair of harnesses. To one was laced an elderly man, robed darkly and beset with milk-white eyes. Wisdom and archaic potency where crafted into his worn, bearded face. No trace of hair hung or curled from a scalp wrinkled with age. Never before had Link seen such a figure, nor did he guess that he would ever have the chance to learn.

To the other harness was shackled the very heart of Free Hyrule, its monarch and care-giver, Zelda of Hylia. Midna's vivid sunset eyes glowed the brighter upon the Princess's descent. Link struggled to be free of his own bonds as he saw that Zelda took notice of her company. Desperation entered her deep blue eyes and her voice resounded naught but grief, "Link! Midna! Why have you come!"

"We've come to rescue you, Zelda!" called Midna, her wound seeping. Link thought he actually heard a chuckle echo from the ceiling, a sure jest taken well. The Mistress upon her throne of steel waved her hand and all their voices were restricted for the moment. All, but the elder man who hung beside Zelda. His worn voice gasped from torture and other forms of anguish, but all who could not speak could hear it, "Foul Mistress and Purveyor of Chaos, you may restrict their throats, but you cannot extinguish their ideas, their minds, or their defiance. They are strong and you, who fear nothing, are swayed by them. Though you gather the noble spirits of former heroes and fallen rulers to you, to chide them a final time before unleashing your flames, know that they are united against thee. We of the Leer, we who have long resisted thee, issue our final curse. May your time on this plane change nothing. May the souls of those whom you have enslaved be released not only without condition, but with our blessing. Though none may strike you down at will or with intent, know that all you have accomplished is for naught. The Children of the Strong will endure until your shadow is lifted from the conquered lands."

The figure of the Mistress clenched her delicate hand and the fiery souls of Hector and Gira encircled her. The old Leer's speech was cut short by sudden gasps of anguish. Link gazed upward to see that the man's harnesses had tightened, constricting him of both blood and air. Metal claws pierced his flesh and tore it asunder. Ilia screamed once more and Zelda cried in protest, cursing the Mistress. Midna stared in stunned silence as red blood rained from the ceiling, staining the steel chamber floor below.

In time, the agony was silenced and the blood poured no more. The old Leer hung motionless, drained, as Zelda clenched her eyes shut.

"You fiend!" Midna cried from below. Ilia wept in silence while both Rech and Aeadis stood silently by their Mistress, visibly unmoved. The silver woman glanced down at the Queen of Twilight and said:

_So shall the fate of your people be, Queen of the Setting Sun.  
Those who take arms against me shall meet their end with agony._

"You speak with confidence, Mistress. It is not befitting of you." Midna smirked in defiance once more.

From behind hollow eyes, The Mistress stirred. She then sang:

_Doth the Queen of Twilight wish to bare witness to the fallacy of her Knights?_

_The extinguishing of her Dusk?_

At that, there was a great rumbling and the entire side of the steel chamber slid apart, allowing the glow of to seep through thick glass panes. Though the moon was masked behind a veil of thick cloud and thus hindered its pale face. From beyond the viewport, there was the battle highly pitched, whose cacophony of clashing arms could be heard even moments before. Suddenly, Link could feel pressure relieved from his arms and legs. He had been released by the Will of the Mistress. Midna too was released and she leant wearily forward as if to fall. Link bounded to her and caught his Queen within his aching arms. She was hurt, but those hurts were not deep. As surely as she fell, Midna regained her old strength and motioned to be set down. Swiftly, she paced toward the window to meet the glow of the fires below. The former hero witnessed his Queen's vacant gaze as she watched her Noble Knights, surrounded and falling to the blades of the Mistress.

_Witness now, O Twilight Queen, the final stroke to set the sun._


	30. Through a Glass, Shattered

**Chapter Twenty-Nine: Through a Glass, Shattered**

* * *

"The Sky does not forsake its allegiances," whispered Midna as she gazed out onto the battle below, lost amid its dust and distress. Link looked on as the noose around the Twilit Knights constricted.

* * *

Captain Darsek gazed out toward the ruin of the battle around him. To his left flank, the valiant riders held their ground, though desperately so. To the right, arms strained to carry the blade while steeds endeavored to allow their masters to tarry a little longer. In endless droves, the Black Beast Men and the Messenger foes gathered in their bloodlust while Black Ships and scaled Dragons circled overhead. The spouts of the Ships' many protruding cannons glowed a furious red, set at any moment to belch streams of molten fire down upon them. The fell winged beasts that wove and arched between them bellowed victoriously, their horrid voices stinging Darsek's ears.

A sudden force struck his ornate helm, sending him to the cold ground, banner, sword, and all. It was the broad iron head of a long, heavy spear, cast from the darkness. At the sight of the fallen Captain, there was a wale of sorrow and anger that rose from the receding ranks, who thrust their weapons with renewed strength. Quickly, the remaining Twili gathered around him, defending his ruin.

Warily, Darsek stood, for the spear's contact was naught but a glance, yet it was enough to throw off his helm and see to his fall. A great cheer and gladdening of hearts sounded from the Twilit ranks and they fought on with a little hope restored.

In the torment of his mind, the words of his people rang through, clear as the Twilight they hailed from.

_  
Lonely are we, upon this most sacred of nights.  
With none but the wind to deliver and cradle us,  
To nourish us.  
To guide us.  
Fallen are the times of old and hardy we must be,  
to endure such wrath that awaits.  
Ere we stand and ere we fall, drawn into unconquerable depths.  
Lo, the end is but a mere touch away,  
And still we stand alone,  
Defiant.  
Thus, we are lonely upon this most sacred of nights.  
Who then shall deliver us?  
Who then shall cradle us?  
Nourish us?  
Guide us?  
Ere the wind fails and dawn ceases to break? _

Darsek pondered that poetry of old as he took hold of the fallen Banner in one firm hand while grasping at his sword with another. He then fixated his glare unto the encroaching enemies and bellowed aloud, the cries of merciless War.

As his heavy stroke fell, a bright light suddenly emerged from the sky above. Like the radiance of many sols, it shone and stayed the bloody hands below, Twili and enemy alike. All gazed upward to meet the light if their eyes were not strained from doing so. Quickly, the illumination faded and all could see what had transpired.

From its lofty height, a Black Ship was hurled ground-ward, its hulls punctured and cast aflame. Fiery debris rained from the red evening sky and the Black Ship crumbled against the Valley's scarred face.

Then, another Black Ship quivered and was consumed with light. Its hull began to splinter and finally flames licked forth out of the fissures. Along the lines of Foes was the burning shell smote, crushing many enemies.

A Dragon fell into the fray, its head and rider cleaved away, smoking.

Then, Darsek saw them, a great many things descending from the sky, breaking the harsh redness with saucers of white stone: The Oocca and their great floating structures had come to make War.

* * *

The sight was amazing to behold! Midna smiled as the immense stone-like platforms descended from the red night, their golden propellers cutting the stained air beneath them.

And grand structures they were. Not unlike the floating cities, the domed platform held great majesty in their design, laced with fine metals and complex machinery. Unlike their Cities, the Oocca floating domes sported many open portals along the circumference of the structure and within them were laid many, many silver cannons. Each of whom shot at an even, destructive pace. At that, the battle in the sky begun, though the Oocca Battlearchs, in their swiftness, caught a quick advantage. Like falling embers, the Black Ships burned and sought a bitter end before time overtook the flames of their wreckage. Violently and without relent were the molten fires and true shots of the Black Ships and Arches exchanged. For the moment, the battle below was stayed in its bloodshed but was eventually resumed with great desperation. Eventually, the white stone and silver guns of the Oocca Battlearchs broke through the lines of Blackness and began to cast heavy shot into the ranks of fell Beast Men and Messengers.

Link watched the carnage unfold, his bearded mouth agape, for the explosive shot of the Battlearchs sent also debris that cut like razors into the large enemy host. In vast numbers were they hewn. Amid the spilling of foul blood and expanding plumes of destruction, no Twili was seen to be harmed. Thus, the aim of the Oocca was truer than the most skilled of bowmen, including himself. Link glanced upon Midna, who stood with a smile upon her cut visage. She looked upon him and her smile broadened into a devious grin before she turned on the Mistress above, "The Sky forsakes not its allegiances, Foul Mistress! Your force here is all but extinguished beneath their endless shot."

The Mistress said nothing, nor did she shift her empty eyes, even as her armies fell away.

_  
Twilight shall be purged._

Link could see the Twilit Knights below, their arms fitted with a strength renewed. With banner on high and sword and spear in hand, they charged the Grand Airship of the Mistress, tethered still to the Ordonian ground. They hewed and drove their ruinous blades ever-closer until finally, the very Airship was sided by mounted Twilight. While the Oocca Battlearchs exchanged shot for fire with the Black Ships, the Twilit Knights hurled their conjured spears and magics against the Vessel that held their Queen. No craft of the Knights could penetrate, nor peel the metal skins from the mighty Ship, try as they did to rupture the thick glass that separated them from their goal.

_If only I could open this view port,_ wondered Link to himself. _Then I could grant the Knights access._ The emptiness of the former Hero's scabbard and the barren space of his pouches made him feel helpless. He longed for his bow and a quiver of explosive shafts. Maybe then the barrier would be brought down and the Knights able to aide him in their plight. For sword and shield Link also lamented, but alas. The Goddesses were deep in their ill favour, to place him in so desperate a situation. If only - a sensation tingled his spine and a shout rang out.

"Link! Look out!"

The former hero ducked his head and rolled away as an arrow shaft whizzed past his ear, clefting it. The missile then shattered uselessly against the glass barrier that hindered the Knights below. His ear seeping, Link rose and faced his father, who approached him with Bow in hand.

"The Hero's Bow," remarked the aging Rech, impressed. Link cursed under his breath and allowed his red blood to run. He dared not be hindered by the sting. He felt the gaze of the Mistress upon them. She watched as Rech halted several meters away from his son.

Then her song rang forth: _  
_

_  
Claim thy son, Sword Equaballus.  
Claim him for the Throne of Chaos and may he serve me well._

"As you wish, my Lady Mistress," whispered Rech, distantly and whose stare did not leave the former hero.

"Not if I can help it." Link heard Midna speak coldly. Through his peripheral, Link watched as Midna began to approach Rech, her fists clenched, pulsating with energy. Rech took not his gaze off of his son, even when the Queen of Twilight made ready her attack. Firm was her stance and angry were her sunset eyes, fixed upon her target. But Midna gained no chance to strike, for she was suddenly lifted into the air. She was then thrust by some invisible magic against the cold glass, her arms splayed and her legs bound. And there she was held with the Mistress looking on.

"Midna!" Link shot a fierce gaze upon both his father and his accursed Mistress. "Let her go!" Link shouted as he laid quick plans for any possible route to re-obtain his weapon and equipment from his father before the man could nock another shaft. However, the older warrior did not stir, but grasped the Bow with both gloved hands, firmly.

Then, something happened that set Link with terror: Rech broke the bow, snapping it along the middle. As the splinters fell aimlessly to the metal deck, Link stood in shock. Through fire and flame and through heat most insufferable did Link strive to obtain such a Bow, only to have it broken before his very eyes, by the hands of his father.

The quiver of arrows was cast aside along with the remnants of the Hero's Weapon.

Link fought the increasing anger that built within him, though he longed for his sword.

At that, his Ordonian Blade skittered across the deck towards his boots, cast by Rech himself.

"I can see it in your eyes, Linkse. You will not see your love slain, nor will you suffer your new servitude kindly. Not without your blood upon this floor."

The former hero knelt to take up his sword and said, "My name is Link of Ordon, the Former Hero of Light and Twilight. Only my father will address me by the name that was given to me. You are not my father." At that, Link widened his stance and made ready his blade.

Rech cast his cloak aside, revealing the black tunic and silver mail beneath. Drawn from its scabbard was the long silver and black blade of the Hylian Knights.

Rech spoke as he calmly approached his challenger, "This blade has been given many names across the four directions."

Link did not stir.

"In the Southron Lands of wild Fell, my sword is revered as Fallowmog, the Silver Thorn. With it, was hewn many necks of the Beast Men, to gain their fealty for my Mistress." Link stepped forward to deliver a heavy strike unto his father's side. The move was swiftly deflected and Rech struck out with a boot, kicking his son away. Rech spoke on, "In the North, to industrious Aerij, the name Stammerwailk was given to my blade: The Master of Machines. Such was the title as the Republic was felled."

Link thrust once more, but Rech was swift in his age. Quickly, the older man dodged and shoved his son aside, not wishing to kill him, by constraint of his Mistress.

"To the East," continued Rech, "the defiant Leer saw many a bitter end, much like their master who was bled on high." Rech motioned his head to the hanging man next to Princess Zelda. "Raithmanas it was named, the Sapper of Life. And it was feared, even among the defiant Leer."

The former hero charged, raising his blade up on high, but Rech stepped into the attack.

With his broad shoulder, Equaballus raised his son and cast him down, sword and all.

As Link struck the metal deck, Rech spoke on, "In the rich West was a land very much like ours, Linkse."

The former hero slowly rose, blade in hand. Rech walked past him, gazing out the very window to which Midna was pinned, surveying the carnage outside. "When this ends, son. I will take you there, to Termina. That world now belongs to us and we shall govern it under out Mistress."

Link replied, "I will die before I swear loyalty to you or this foul Mistress." Suddenly, before the warrior could react, a gauntleted fist was driven into his gut and he sank to his knees. Rech was, indeed, swift. Link bent forward and coughed a mist of crimson onto the wrist that was retracted from his bruising stomach.

"Link!" Ilia, Midna, and Zelda called helplessly from their lofty positions. The former hero raised his head, meeting the softening gaze of his father. Then, without warning, his eyes hardened and Rech thrust his knee into Link's forehead.

* * *

Ilia screamed once more as Link flew backward, collapsing. A pool of blood began to stream from his nose. Quickly, she turned to the silent Mistress, whose empty stare was fixed upon Midna, who remained pinned to the window. She approached the beautiful lady, full of anger and desperation. "Call off your slave, Mistress. I beg of you!" pleaded the Lady Mayor, hot tears freely flowing. The vile lady ignored the plea, focusing still upon Midna.

A hand once again found her shoulder and Ilia turned to see the face of Aeadis. She then stored her scorn for him, taking his hand in hers, "Aeadis, please! Please convince your Mistress to stop! I loved you once and I know that you love our children as much as I." Ilia ground her teeth with despair, "Come back to me!"

With sorrow in his brown eyes, Aeadis withdrew his hand and struck Ilia across the face, sending her down with a gasp.

"The Mistress does not suffer the plight of mortal peasants to pass," said he.

"Nor do the living suffer the will of the damned lightly." Ilia looked up and saw Telma walk into the chamber. The Mistress turned her empty gaze onto her, silently enveloping the bar lady with her malice. Deformed as she was, Telma stood strong as Ilia reached out to her, "Telma! Leave me and save yourself. All is lost!"

To this, Telma smiled and replied, "Not all is lost, child. Things are simply not yet found."

At that, Telma went to the window that over saw the battle outside. She paused for a moment with her eyes closed and her breathing focused. Then, with a deep holler, Telma coiled back and raised her clenched fist. With a force that shook then entire Airship, Telma struck the thick glass that could halt an army.

The glass then began to splinter, as cracks snaked across the pane. Telma smiled as the cracks spread, meeting one another.

Then the glass shattered along the entire vessel and the night breeze entered.

Ilia saw the metal harness on Zelda give way and the Princess of Destiny fall to the metal floor. She watched as Midna too was released from the grasp of the Mistress, falling to the deck below. The Mistress rose from her throne of steel, the emerald souls of Hector and Gira floating after her.

"Your powers are of no use against me, Foul Mistress!" called Telma. "Such was my sacrifice. For, as long as I live and breathe, the Mother of the Strong shall see to your ruin."

The Mistress sang a response:

_None with the will to silence me,  
Are capable of inflicting such silence upon me.  
I am Chaos, The Mistress Revered.  
I, simply, am.  
Things, simply, are._

Telma replied, "True as that may be, you may still be hindered thus." The Mistress cast evil forces upon the defiant woman, but she resisted with great strength.

Ilia rose to her feet and stood tall, filled with an inexplicable strength. She turned to see Zelda approaching her. To the Lady Mayor, the Princess spoke, "The Legend Carved in Stone speaks truly, and now that I see you here, I believe it all the more. The destiny, however, lies with your children and you will be left with a choice; a difficult one."

"Do you know what I will have to choose?" asked Ilia.

"Alas," replied Zelda, "I do not know, but the time to act is now." The Princess pointed toward the emerald flames, "Your children. You must go to them. I will use all the power at my disposal to aide Telma, but you have to regain your children by your own hand."

At that, Zelda reached forth and cast a shaft of bright Light unto the back of the Mistress. A rumbling of angry force erupted from the beauty that was the evil one. The spirits, however, remained, so Ilia ran with her hand outstretched.

She could hear their voices, _Momma! Mommy!_

A hand reached out and seized Ilia's wrist. She looked back to see Aeadis, an expression of grim determination upon his face. Anger boiled within her. She was so close to her children. Their faded voices fueled that anger. She was not to be stopped! With a sudden and fierce force, Ilia raised her fist and delivered a powerful strike to the handsome face of her husband. He relinquished his grip on her, reeling slightly with blood running from his cut lip. Ilia wasted no time as she placed both hands upon the flames that were the souls of her beloved little ones.

* * *

Captain Darsek watched in amazement as the infallible glass pane that his men had been unable to pierce shattered and gave way, nearly evaporating into dust. The Oocca Battelarchs, in their ambush, were a blessing by the gods. It had reduced many of the Mistress's Black Ships to molten slag that scarred the Valley. The Black armies were felled in great numbers before their spirits broke and they ran. The hold of the Mistress must have weakened in that moment and Darsek wasted no time with his orders, "Officers that yet live, come to me!"

A pair of younger Twili, bloodied and worn, approached their Captain; the only two that remained. To the one with greater life in his eyes, Darsek said, "You will take command of the remnant, Sorve. Defend out flanks and let no enemy live."

Sorve nodded, "Yes, my Captain."

Darsek pointed to the other officer, "You, Hakkev, shall lead under him or replace him if he is killed."  
Young Hakkev nodded solemnly, "Yes, sir."

Darsek said nothing in reply. He then spoke, saying, "I will take a dozen brave Knights to pass through that gap to aide me in the retrieval of our Queen. Who is with me?"

All shadowy souls raised their gauntlets. Darsek chose those nearest in proximity to him and those with no great wounds. When they were chosen, Darsek raised his blade and dismounted his steed of darkness with them. By the nature of the Twili, Darsek and his brave few leapt up the side of the massive Airship and into the wide gap where there was once impenetrable glass.

To a fate unknown to them, Darsek was the first to rise and the first to enter the belly of the beast.

For Realm and Crown, he took up his sword.

For the love of the Queen and their undying fealty, the Twilit Knights flew to their doom.


	31. A Wish and a Blessing

**Chapter Thirty: A Wish and a Blessing**

* * *

Link's vision became a laboured struggle for existence. The pain he felt before had numbed him to all other senses. He could no longer hear the cacophony of battle nor taste the bitterness that was his own blood upon his tongue. He could no longer feel the steady, inexorable flow of that crimson river from his broken lips and bruised nose. Though, he could faintly see the ever-expanding pool through his tunneling vision. Link, in his nebulous mind, recognized the black shadow that stood above him as his father, Rech. The mighty swordsman gazed down upon him, a strange look upon his creased brow. The fallen Knight made no offensive strike with his long silver sword, nor did he inflict any further anguish upon Link. Rech simply stood and watched as his son rolled to his side, clenching his gut, retching more blood onto the stainless steel deck.

Through his fading peripheral, Link saw Midna suspended high against the glass that separated the battle within the Airship from that one raging without. Though his Queen called to him, Link could not hear, nor could he respond. The fear carved into her vivid sunset eyes was real, as was the Mistress on high, the architect of his miseries. Oh, how he hated her.

Facing the Mistress was that familiar figure of a young, beautiful woman with golden hair and familiar, yet passionate green eyes. It was Ilia, pleading with the Mistress of the empty eyes.

Though, this exchange, he did hear, for it was bold: "Call off your slave, Mistress. I beg of you!"

She was begging for his life. Despite abandoning Ilia and Ordon, Link saw that young lady was willing to confront evil to save his own wretched self. At this, Link felt the warmth of their friendship, the strength of their old bond. In that moment of profound agony, Link was glad.

Then, the world shook for but a single violent moment. By some divine Grace, the glass barrier along the ship's hull began to splinter and break until the entire mass shattered, like the parting of many seas.

Midna on high, was released from her silent spell and sent to the hard deck below. With feline grace and poise, the Queen of Twilight landed upon her bare feet, the jagged, broken shards clashing all about her. Quickly, Midna rose with no debris hindering her advance toward Rech and the felled former hero.

The father raised his blade and the Queen gathered the magics within her.

Then, for a moment, a great illumination gleamed off the surrounding steel, blinding Link. He weakly turned his head to face the source of Light, and lo! Zelda was free, barraging the foul Mistress with rays of pure Light. Ilia, with hand outstretched, touched the green flames that circled around the Mistress. Link suddenly felt a sensation arise in his fingers and travel up his hand.

Another curtain of Light overtook his sight and Link lost all thought once more, his mind and soul fading into the white eternity.

* * *

The emerald fires were tepid to the touch. Ilia felt their flames wrap around her closing palm as she saw the Mistress fix her empty gaze unto her. Those absent, expressionless eyes narrowed into a most hateful glare; Ilia felt weak.

Then, all faded to white once more.

The final piece of the Legend Carved in Stone was made very clear to Ilia in that moment:

_To the Planes of Eternity, where all is laid bear, The Mistress of Four and Ordona most fair,  
Are bound to their fates.  
The souls of the many, dormant and lost, are contested thence, Time's boundaries crossed._

She opened her jade eyes and regarded the Light most pure. No longer in the belly of metal and anguish that was the Mistress's Airship, Ilia glanced about curiously, weary not of fatigue or fear. Alone she stood, amid the luminescent eternity she had known before.

Then, she was suddenly alone no more. A man and a woman appeared before her. Tall and beautiful were they, clad in the finest of linens, wearing endearing smiles upon their young, fair faces. However, the beauty of their appearances hid not the power and courage they presented. For beneath those fine linens, weaving mail and thickened bracers did garnish their bodies. Sheathed swords hung along their hips, bow and quiver were slung across their backs. The wear of War and battle were deeply set upon their angelic faces.

The man with strong legs and cleanly shorn visage towered over Ilia. Long dark hair dangled, like brown silk around his deep chestnut eyes. His smile was endearing and familiar.

The woman, too, was tall beauty to behold. Though her hair was long, bright and golden, her eyes were a similar chestnut, like the man at her side. Both had high cheeks and thin, lovely lips. Ilia noticed, even their noses curved down to a point, like her own.

They were twins. Ilia's eyes widened at this realization. Both continued to smile at her as the Lady Mayor's heart came to an abrupt halt.

"Hector? Gira?" The Ilia's voice quivered, as if struck by a tremulous Northern chill.

"Hello, mother," they both replied in unison. The man's voice was deep and resonating, but sad, like that of Aeadis. The golden-haired woman's voice was calm and assertive, like her mother, for it flowed like modest reason most befitting of her beauty.

They were her babies; her children grown up, strong and beautiful.

_Is this a vision of the future?_ She stepped forward and raised her delicate hands to touch their faces, but was marred by an invisible force, a wall of malicious sorts.

Sadness crept into the voices of the adult twins. "We are not completely free, mother," said they. "The Mistress's Will cannot be broken by your intent or strength alone."

"I have not strength without you!" Ilia's anger carried her tears as she tried harder and harder to embrace her children, but could not. Each attempt at reuniting with her loved ones was met with stiff failure.

Alas, she screamed, "I have not the will to live without you!"

Ilia's fists struck against the invisible wall, serving only to rob her of strength. Hector and Gira pressed their palms against their side of the wall. Ilia then eased her strikes and calmed her heart, gently placing her hands against the same wall, feeling nothing but the presence of her beloveds on the other side. The wall was cold, its isolation unforgiving.

"What," asked a heavily breathing Ilia, "would it take to free you, then?" Her voice came in broken waves, as water that is dashed helplessly against a rocky cove.

A voice, cold and distant, emerged from across the Plane, "She wants your soul as well, Ilia."

It was Aeadis. The sorrow in his voice was overwhelming, like that of a true slave doing a bitter deed. At first, the lady mayor moved to strike him, but the man sank to his knees and Ilia pitied him.

"My love," whispered he. "My darling, I am so sorry."

Ilia approached him and placed a soft hand upon his shamed chin. She felt the firmness of her husband's jaw and the grain of stubble that crowned it. The warmth of Aeadis's flesh crawled up Ilia's fingers and she remembered the first time she had touched him, kissed him, loved him. A tear ran its course along her cheek, tracing the contours of her own visage. A great strength was found in Ilia then, and she raised Aeadis's low-hanging head, saying, "Help me then, to free the souls of our children. Help me to give them a future."

Aeadis looked up to meet his wife's eyes of pure jade and he moved his strong hands to take hers, most delicate.

Then a voice, hollow and foul, echoed from across the four distances:

_  
Doth thou seek redemption for thy sins, Son of Fortune?  
Are the Children of the Strong to be unleashed against Impartial Chaos?_

"Yes," was Aeadis's reply.

And for a moment, the song was ceased, but soon was rekindled:  
_  
_

_Thou fool.  
Within Light, thy will is still bound to Me.  
No quarter will I grant then, to any Dweller of Hyrule. _

The Mistress in Her beautiful silver glory materialized before them, between mother and children. Once again, her vile, empty gaze fell upon a defiant Ilia. A force most potent assailed the Lady Mayor. At that, Ilia was lifted from the ground and dashed hard against the wall.

"Mother!" The voices of her children became silent from behind the barrier.

"Ilia!" Aeadis too, was forced into silence.

Ilia braced her strength against that which held her to the invisible wall, that which separated her from her children. The Mistress, her long gown in tow, sauntered forward, her hand outstretched, her sharpened fingers poised to strike.

She sang once more, as only the Mistress of Four could:

_  
Thy soul belongeth to Me now, O Mother of the Strong.  
None shall hinder me._

All Ilia could think of in her most dire of moments, was the safety of her children. She had seen their future! They were to live. By her will, they were to live.

_Hector! Gira!_ Ilia pleaded with the Goddesses Three. Her mind strayed to those whom she loved, those whom she cared for, and those whom she feared that her eyes would never again gaze upon, her arms never again embrace.

She wished Link was there to save her once more.

As the Mistress reached, her hand was suddenly stayed against its will. Mere centimeters from Ilia's throat, the Mistress could not advance to fasten her claws. Try as she did, Ilia's slender throat remained unsullied by evil hands. The Mistress's fingers began to retract and the Lady Mayor was left in wonderment.

At last, she would wonder no more, for a great event had begun to transpire.

A human palm appeared between Ilia and the Mistress, risen against the Evil One. The hand was worn, but firm with a blessed strength. A wrist and arm began to form with the hand until a figure, clad in green, wearing a broad shield upon his back and a pointed green cap upon his golden head stood before her. The other hand hung at the Hero's side, clenching, with determination, the Sword of Ordon.

It was Link, years younger and fairer. Ilia could not see the grim focus within his deep blue eyes, but she could sense it all the same.

"Link?" Ilia asked, for she had to be certain that her Hero had returned. Silence was his only reply.

Another palm materialized from the ether, one dark and painted, born with many golds. Telma suddenly appeared beside Link, before Ilia, smiling. She was returned to her former self, a tall and commanding woman, proud and strong. Her darken crimson braids dangled and swayed gently as the woman focused her palm in defiance of the Vile One.

Boldly, she and Link held their grounds, but still was Ilia suspended, her children separated and the Mistress pressing on.

Young hands, so fair, yet worn with toil, revealed themselves beside Telma. One such hand bore a Sword of Ordon while the other grasped a simple bow. Colin and Uma, strong of arms and proud of spirit, lent their strength to Telma and Link. Colin's long and fine golden hair was tied neatly behind him, while a look of determination held firm before him. Uma, a natural beauty with friendly flecks upon her face and joy upon her brow, stood firm with her brother, her deep blue eyes held the same vigour as he.

Soon, Noble Auru, full in attire with his wounds hindering no more, rose from the Light. His great silver blade was grasped in one heavy hand while the other palm, like the others, was held up in a similar defiance. Sir Auru, held his tongue well as he contributed to the repulsion of so damned a Mistress.

Still, She pressed.

Another palm, then another appeared, all familiar: One was of a rocky hide, born of fire. Mighty Songoro, the Goron of Death Mountain arose from his slumber to lend aid to Ilia. Silent as the Mountain was he as the Goron's great foot came down to brace itself against the evil he fought. The other arm was long, elegant, and marine. The fins and loveliness of the Lady Lakea belonging to Zora Domain made way as she stood with her Goron companion. Her vivid crimson eyes shone all the brighter within the etherial as she stood her ground. The pair, so strange to Ilia, yet now so dear to her heart, maintained their silence and their focus squarely onto the ever-gaining Mistress.

Princess Zelda, in all her regal beauty, and Shad and Ashei, and Talo, and the many free souls of Hyrule appeared to make their stand in defiance of the Mistress. There were many legions, all of them friends united. Hyrule was with her. The world was with Ilia in that moment that all escaped time and understanding.

Whether it was truly happening or not, Ilia felt the presence of the world around her.

One last palm appeared, along with the body to which it belonged. This one was strong, and noble with age. Worn and large with spurs of wizened hair upon it. This was a man she knew her entire life, whose power arms - like the Gorons - carried her through her most desperate times, through dangerous waters. Through loneliness and through despair; through joy and amicable times.

It was her father, the Old Mayor Bo, strong of arm and wise of mind. She gazed up to him and he looked down upon her, his expression soft and kind, despite the stoutness of his presence.

He was as he lived, when he did live: wide with food and drink, but wide also of compassion within his small green eyes. From behind the bristle of whiskers, his old mouth voiced, "Ilia, my daughter."

"Father...." replied she as her voice quivered.

"Do not be afraid, for your children shall live. But their troubles are far from ended." Bo's voice was grim, belaying that firmness.

Ilia shook her head drops welling in her eyes, "How can I end them?"

At this, the Old Mayor said no more as sadness crept across his kindly face. Ilia spoke once more, "I will do whatever it takes, father."

"I know you will, my beautiful daughter." Bo reached out with a hand and gently placed it upon Ilia's cheek, allowing her tears to flow over it.

At that, she was released from the shackles that bound. Ilia quickly turned to glance unto her children, the adults that stood over her, who smiled down upon her with concern in their chestnut eyes.

"I know what I must do," said Ilia as she closed her running eyes. "Goodbye, my loves. May the Goddesses protect you."

Ilia turned to meet the onslaught of the Mistress, whose presence was barely contained by resistance of her friends, her allies, her dearest ones.

Ilia walked forward and worried glances fell upon her. The empty eyes of the Mistress fell upon her as well.

"You will not touch my children, Mistress," declared the lady mayor. "Do to me what you desire, but my children shall remain to undo you, for it is by my will that it be done. Take me instead and leave them forever be."

The Mistress charged without words and without warning. Her hand, cold as the peaks of the snowy North, ran through Ilia's chest, then all became white once more.

* * *

Gleaming steel and the din of battle struck Ilia like a thunderous song of storms. She saw Telma standing, her mouth agape. She saw Zelda, bewildered at the sight that took place before them. Ilia turned to bare witness to a great shaft of light even brighter than many suns. Through the roof it bore out and into the heavens.

A distant screaming was heard, for it was the Mistress, her form writhing within the shaft. Her voice came not as a song, but as a curse:

_  
Far be it, O Mother of the Strong, for thee to undo Me.  
Thou shalt never witness thy children grown before thine eyes.  
Never shall you suffer their years to pass.  
My nations remain, as ever, under the sway of the Mistress.  
There is no end to Mine Chaos.  
Swiftly shall it return, and I with it.  
For I, simply, am.  
And things, simply, are._

Her mouth, like a great chasm, opened. Out forth, came many boiling emerald flames, the souls of the many whom she had consumed. Across the skies, like a river of jewels, did each soul find its vessel. Before the light of the next day, each soul would reunite with its earthly flesh. Ilia watched as the flames of her children sallied forth and out into the night. She bade them farewell. She was strangely at peace, despite all that had transpired. Ilia felt as if her worries, her toil, her labour of love, had accomplished what the Goddesses had set her to do. Now her children were once again free, to live and grow, though she did not fully wish to believe what the Mistress had said. Ilia hoped that she had given enough and she wished for the blessing to allow her to do more.

"Ilia, look out!" Telma's voice had reached the lady mayor's ears and she turned. She was met with the eyes of Aeadis, her husband. The man behind those eyes was not the man she married. No, this was the gaze of a madman, a dead man.

"Aeadis..." began she, slowly, evenly, despite the fear that struck her.

That was when she felt the cold steel of a dagger, like the fingers of the Mistress puncture her chest.

Ilia gasped quietly as the blade sunk deeper within her. Over the should of her beloved assailant, Ilia saw the blurring vision of Zelda and Telma rushing toward her. She heard their ever-fading voices.

Ilia too, in her silent way, bade them all farewell. _It seems, wondered Ilia, that my wish is denied._

Darkness came and took her.

And she saw her children once more.

* * *

Author's Note: It's almost over.


	32. Dust Unto Shadow

**Chapter Thirty-One: Dust Unto Shadow**

* * *

_  
He was there_. Link was right there, amid the ethereal plane of light. He faced the Mistress and withstood her throes, her dark ambitions to reach the hapless Ilia. Link recalled his efforts and the efforts of his friends, old and new. He recalled the toils of the free world all around him, aiding him, and he was thankful, for they were all there to defend Ilia; to uphold the maiden in her hour of desperation. He knew not why he was there, nor did he fathom the purpose behind so chimerical an event. He saw but himself standing between Ilia and her fate.

Yet, despite their greatest strives, Ilia faced the Mistress all the same. Link watched helplessly as the young woman, fair and noble, strode forward and challenged the Mistress. In doing so, the former hero also recalled the evil being as she struck Ilia down. Then... he remembered nothing.

He had returned instead to the fray about him, the battle ensuing.

* * *

"No! Get your hands off me! Link, help!"

Link remembered the angelic voice of Midna, his Queen. Before the light had enveloped him, she had broken free of her unholy bonds and began to charge Equaballus with a demonic rage. However, before she could attack, a mighty black gauntlet hand taken her by the slender waist and began to carry her off and away from the dark Hylian, slave to the Mistress of Four. Link worried not, for the hand was friendly and its loyal grip was strong.

Darsek's men had arrived at last.

The Twilit Knights of the Realm, clad in the woven obsidian plates that shelled their milk-white bodies, charged the breach torn by Telma's mighty fist. Captain Darsek, with twenty men behind him, leapt up and into said gap, their sharpened conjured swords and spears brandished. Once his Queen was safely away, Darsek's crimson eyes bled fury into the fray as he stomped toward the man standing above the fallen Link.

Then, from the stainless steel chamber's rear walls, many doorways opened, sending many Black Beast Men of Fell to challenge the Twilit host.

Five over one did the Fell Men outnumber the Twili.

Rech stood still, his sword's guard lowered against the onslaught of Twilit Knights. Darsek rushed forward and brought his own spear to bear.

Within an instant, the dark Hylian raised his silver sword and the pair clashed. Darsek thrust his weapon, but the old man countered with ease. Rech tilted his blade to the side, causing Darsek's spear to slide. The Hylian then brought his hilt up, dashing it against the large Twili's helmed head.

Darsek stumbled, his plumed helmet crashing to the stainless deck. Yet, before the old knight could drive his blade into the Twili's side, Darsek quickly beat the silver sword away with his spear's dark shaft.

Another Twili, a tall and pale-eyed rider rushed into the duel and swung his blade, intent on aiming for the old man's neck. Rech tilted his head and allowed the black edge to graze but a sliver of flesh from his pointed ear before turning his own sword into his attacker's chest.

The Twilit knight gasped his last and grabbed onto the silver that punctured him, before falling dead. Darsek bellowed aloud and made ready another strike.

Equaballus parried the spear's broad head. With a downward swipe, the shaft was slit and the razor head clattered uselessly to the ground. Rech then lashed out with his boot, which connected with the Twili Captain's stomach. The harsh contact sent the Twili back. As the bearded Darsek recovered from the kick, his crimson eyes narrowed. Slowly, he drew his darkened short blade from the air and knelt down to grasp the handle of his dead comrade's dropped sword. With twin blades in his gauntleted hands, Darsek barred his fangs and charged forward.

More Knights came to the aide of their noble captain, who swung with a precise and fiery aim, his duel blades an indefinite blur of deadly motion. The old Hylian, much to their chagrin, countered and parried every strike with ease. Sparks and cackles of magical flame erupted with each cacophonous blow.

The Men of Fell were soon upon them, and the Twili formed their line, their spears and swords jutted forward like the teeth of death that they were.

Before long, the swarming masses turned the gleaming steel deck into a blemished killing floor.

Then, something happened that none could ever expect.

A brilliant pillar of purest light overtook the steel and blood. The shaft, in its intensity, bore a clean hole through the ceiling, out into the cold night. From where the Mistress once stood, her empty eyes gazing outward, there was an endless outpouring of emerald flames. The souls of the many who were taken by the evil one had burst free of their prison and sought the newly wrought opening. As a river of green flame, the souls swam and surged until the flow died to at last a trickle.

All who once fought, simply stayed their arms gaze upon the wondrous sight.

Feebly, Link rose to his feet, sword and shield in hand. Was the Mistress defeated? Was her vile self washed from these lands? The former hero covered his eyes for the light had become too great.

Finally, when the last souls had risen, the light lessened, leaving a bright, angelic presence.

It was the Mistress, shorn of dress and all things human.

Her voice sang to the world:

_Far be it, O Mother of the Strong, for thee to undo Me.  
Thou shalt never witness thy children grown before thine eyes.  
Never shall you suffer their years to pass.  
My nations remain, as ever, under the sway of the Mistress.  
There is no end to Mine Chaos.  
Swiftly shall it return, and I with it.  
For I, simply, am.  
And things, simply, are._

Then, that same voice whispered gently into Link's own ear:

_Hero of Light.  
Thou hast performed admirably, though your quest is for naught.  
The wrath of Mine Chaos shall sally forth hence, be it only delayed and divided.  
Across the Four Nations, they shall reunite. Under Mine servants, will the tapestry of Hyrule's destruction be re-sewn.  
In the protection of the Mother Strong, thou hath failed,  
For by her love's goodly hand will her life cease, thy purpose faltered.  
Thy father returneth to Me, for by Me, he shall forever stay.  
Mine Chaos shall return.  
For I, simply, am.  
And things, simply, are._

At that, Rech, the father of Link, raised his sword and did cleave the hand of Darsek at the wrist. The mighty Twili bellowed aloud in pain and anger, but his fury was stayed. For Rech did not finish the Twili, nor did he fight any further, but instead sheathed his long silver sword. The fallen Knight strode past his weakened son, but halted and turned to him.

"Son, Linkse" said he. "We shall meet once more and you will embrace the Mistress."

Link shook his head, "I will never stand with you, father; not unless you shake your bonds." The former hero took a hold of his father's shoulder. "Help us defeat her, Rech."

The older man simply shook his head, "It is too late for me, Linkse. I pray that my Mistress is forgiving of your infractions." Rech shrugged his son's worn fingers off of his cloak and withdrew a ring, forged of white gold, from his left hand. Set into the white gold was a single blue sapphire with the etching of a horse around it. He then dropped the ring onto the blood-stained steel deck where it silently pinged and settled into one such crimson pool. There it sat and Link could not take is eyes off of it, for it seemed so familiar to him.

"It belonged to your mother," said Rech poignantly. Link looked up and saw that his father was quickly pacing toward the angelic Mistress, whose form put all men to silence. Soon, the old Hylian and his deadly Mistress were gone, back to some safety that bore their vile ilk far from Hyrule.

Silently, Link cursed their escape. Slowly, he knelt low to take the bloodied ring.

Then he saw Ilia, with another man close to her, a sharpened dagger hidden behind his broad back. His eyes and hair were of a rich chestnut brown; his locks, long and flowing. He had the presence more of a merchant than a beast.  
Link was to shout a warning, but Zelda had screamed before he could.

But it was too late. Ilia, in her daze, watched as the man's dagger easily plunged into her soft chest, rich red blood seeping from the torn flesh. There was a familiarity in her eyes that could not escape the shock, as if she had recognized the man. Her lips trembled his name, _Aeadis._

"No!" Link suddenly found strength in his legs and his arms and his heart. With furious design, the former hero lunged forward and took the large murderous man down in a single tackle. They both fell heavily to the ground. Ilia's lifeless body fell next to them. The man, in his madness, writhed and resisted. Link saw that there was no humanity in his wild eyes, but the feral intent of a beast. And like a beast, Link vowed to destroy him.

The man's eyes searched and fell upon the blade that was buried into the fallen maiden. With a quick grasp, the wild man withdrew the dagger and turned it upon Link. The man was strong, but the former hero fought with all of his renewed vigour. With a sudden thrust, the wild assailant sunk the blade into Link's shoulder, above the heart.

He screamed in agony, but the green-clad warrior overtook his pain and bashed his forehead into the nose of his opponent. With the man stunned, Link withdrew the bloodied dagger and set it to the man's heart.

Deep did it sink into the murderer's thick breast and the man's thrashes died into slowly pulsating movements.

Then, madness left his eyes and a bright chestnut brown took its place. Sad were they in their final moments of life. Link found himself pitying them.

"Il-Ilia? Where are you?" came a weak voice from he who was to die.

The former hero gently rose from the dying man. Aeadis turned his head to see the darkened eyes of his beloved wife.

He tried to raise his hand, to brush her pale cheek, but alas could not, for his strength had abandon him.

"Ilia," whispered the man as cold tears rolled from his face.

"Ilia... I'm sorry." Darkness veiled the eyes of Aeadis then.

Link stepped back to leave the dead in peace.

So calm did they seem, their blood mixing on the steel deck.

Ilia was as a sleeping beauty, her golden hair both vivid and kemp. Aeadis was a noble prince, asleep amid his duties.

Together, in their eternal sleep, they were natural.

Telma knelt down to the motionless Ilia, fresh anguish and disbelief upon the bar-owner's dwarfish face.

A soft dark hand found its way into Link's. Midna had returned to him, for the Men of Fell were, all of them, slain. She then rested her head upon her lover's own and whispered, "We should get back to Castle Town. All of us."

* * *

Zelda was solemn in her approach. She quietly surveyed the carnage that surrounded her. From on high, the Leer elder that she had befriended, hung limp and still. Blood rolled still from his deep wounds. Zelda would have him lowered and burned as per Leerori custom. Of the other thirty that came travelled with Hyrule's matriarch, she feared that they fared no better.  
Silently, Zelda's gaze fell upon Ilia and beside her, Aeadis, whom the Mistress had poisoned against his love.

Despair flooded her then. The children, the precious ones, were safe, but without parent. Though she did not tear, Zelda wept wholly for them.  
Then, her gaze found Link and Midna, standing side by side, hand in hand. Midna's fiery head rested upon the former hero's own of long golden, their breathing was long and slow, evenly paced. Zelda wished she was capable of reading minds, but she guessed that they were merely thankful for living, though grieved at the departure of so close a friend.  
Zelda brought her mind to the Mistress, who was to be seen in no place, though she felt their damned presence from across the Sea, both The Mistress and the Sword, was unsure, nor was it settled.

Silence enveloped the moment, robbing it of any sweetness.

* * *

Author's Note: Stay tuned for the Epilogue! But, before I do that, please tell me what you thought of the story so far? Where did you expect it to go, if anywhere? Remember that this was all started from a dream I once had, plus there were barely any stages of planning. I just wrote and went, having a good friend of mine make sure it made sense, hence the REVISED version of this work.

So, again, please tell me what you loved and what you despised! Tear this thing apart and show me the raw carnage that is your criticism!

Then I will post the Epilogue and end this story once and for all.

Thank you.

Regards,

-Justin.


	33. Epilogue

Author's Note: This was actually completed a long while ago, but I did not post it. My apologies.

This is it, the final chapter for Shadow and Remnant. Thank you all for your lovely readership and I hope to see you again in the near future!

Alas, I bring you:

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**Epilogue**

Ever so swiftly did the emerald souls inflamed find their bodies that were once lost. As the rain fell tepidly onto the the cobblestone streets of Castle Town, many pairs of eyes broke their slumber and blinked away their lifelessness. The hold that the Mistress' spell once had upon them had relinquished, for She had forsaken the Green Lands, leaving none but the charred remains of so bitter a passing. Whispers arose quickly, of a mysterious Hero that challenged the faceless evil, freeing the known world from the slavery of the sleep.

To that Hero, they sung, for they did not know his name.

Some whispered in return, that it was no man that withstood the Beast, but a woman - a mother- of great strength, of great heart, of great wisdom.

Of these whispers, none could trace their origin, for it ran like the streams from a sky unleashed.

The great oaken gates of Hyrule's Castle Town creaked open and the great host, lead by an elegant matriarch entered. The sun rose on the third day, the skies cleared of its bloody demeanour as if cured of illness.

On high, the Oocca within their crafts of war hovered, passing over their scattered foes down low. For many a great mile the burning hulls and crackling corpses of Black machines and Beastly men were strewn; bitter reminders upon the spoiled earth.

For the first time in half a month's passing, the heavens were blue and the clouds were a proud cotton white once more.  
Link glanced down to the dark hand that gently held on to his. Midna had looked more beautiful than ever, walking beside him with the morning's glory to encompass her. Midna's sunset eyes, glazed with passion and kindness, countered the sunrise that rose. The contrast was stunning.

She smiled to him, trying with all her will to comfort him in the most distressing duty that was yet laid before him.

Link was searching for young Hector and little Gira, the children of Ilia whom he had never before met.

They deserved a better fate than the news he was to convey. Yet, he had insisted on the task be done by he and no other.

Zelda led them in their voyage, the Twilit Knights providing the steeds to bear them all, for their former masters needed them not in the halls of the Dead.

So it was that the solemn few were greeted by the Gorons who defended their waking charges.

Zelda was the first to greet the towering, cross-armed Darbus at her gates. Her brilliantly dark blue eyes, those which reflected both wisdom and gratitude, settled upon the Goron Patriarch.

"Thank you, Great Darbus. I - we, of Hylia, are indebted to you and your proud race."

Darbus' grunt was loud, but friendly. "The honour is ours, human. We, as ever, grant a willing fist, though we are unsure of what the Hylians could possibly do for the Gorons."

Zelda smiled and placed a comparatively small hand upon the Patriarch's thick forearm. "Such is friendship, one can never be too certain when one needs the other. In that friendship renewed, we shall benefit both of our kindred."

And so Zelda and Darbus spoke, as shepherds often do among their flocks.

One among the flock, a former Hero of Light and saviour of Twilight, walked away from the greetings, fixed on finding Ilia's children.

A crowd began to form, with sleepy eyes all among them. They gathered, for their ruler had arrived, arrived to guide them once more. And Zelda greeted her flock with open arms and with news most bold.

Link turned without first glancing and bumped into a solid wall of what felt like steel.  
It was Darsek. What remained of his hand was bound tightly, fresh dark blood seeping. The former hero gazed upward to meet the stern, tall stare of the mighty Twilit Captain, dismounted from his steed.

"Lord," greeted Darsek, once again, any warmth in his voice was absent.

"Captain," replied Link, "how does your wound treat you?"

Darsek replied, "Blood is blood, Hero. The greater wound lies in my roster. I can count no more than fifty men under our banner."

Link's heart halted for a brief moment, his blood ran cold at the Captain's empty voice. Pain, for the first time in Darsek's life, seemed intolerable.

"I grieve for your loss, Captain. They were, all of them, worthy of reverence and remembrance."  
Darsek's tone changed, "I feel as though we may not be meeting again, under the current circumstances, Lord."

"What do you mean, Captain?" asked Link.

"My Queen has alternate plans to what you appear to have chosen."

"I have not laid any plans," began Link, slowly, "beyond finding Ilia's children somewhere amongst this crowd and bearing the ill tidings."

"Regardless," said Darsek, "there are greater things in motion here that cannot be undone. My Queen has charged me with defending Hyrule, for it shall be our new home, cursed though we may be."

Link said nothing. He simply placed his gauntleted palm upon the Twili's shoulder. May strength be with you, now and forever, brother. Defend my home well, for I know not where I head.

Link regarded Midna, who was walking away from Zelda and noted the looks of disbelief and awe from the masses as the elegant Twili graced them. The pair walked alone, searching for familiar faces, and for those little ones that were so unfamiliar.

"I don't think I can do this, Midna." admitted Link. "I don't know where to begin."

Midna did not answer, for a face most familiar had caught his eye. The man was short and his disheveled hair was dark and curled. The spectacles he wore and the text he cradled made all the difference.

"Link!" shouted the scholar, "Link!"

The former her smiled and nodded. The bewildered and bespectacled Shad, without poise or propriety, asked, "What in Din's inferno happened? Why is the sky blue? Have we won? Did you win?"

"Hardly, Shad," explained Link. "The evil that took you still lives and cannot be killed."  
Shad's face drained of warmth and flush.

"But, that evil is passed, for now. I am off to see it sealed away forever, after I perform one last duty."

"So, you're leaving again?" asked Shad, a tone of disappointment in his voice. "What about Ilia? Where is she? Hector and Gira are awake and restless."  
So those are their names, wondered Link. Hector and Gira.

"I bring sore tidings about Ilia."  
And so, Link educated the scholar and the scholar tearfully guided the Hero to his duty.

There they sat, with Uma's arms around them: Hector and Gira, the last children of Ordona. So much like their mother, though strong differences inferred the father's traits.

Both had brown eyes, with hair of dark gold upon their heads. The nearer Link drew, the greater his unease became, for their bright eyes looked curiously up at him, judging him innocently. Link felt as though he had performed a great misdeed and was standing before a tribunal, a knotted noose leashed around his neck.  
As Link approached, little Hector turned his head and shyly avoided contact with Link's deep and feral eyes. He gripped tightly onto Uma's fingers, inadvertently squeezing them until she winced.  
But little Gira wavered not. As Link knelt down to her level, their eyes met. There was no fear, nor was there recklessness; only focus.

Her voice was clear, inquisitive, pure, "Are you a good man?"  
Link's heat leapt, as he himself doubted his own righteousness. Still, he answered all the same, "I try to be."  
Then, Hector's face emerged from behind Uma's arm, his chestnut eyes intense. The little boy asked, "Where is mommy?"  
Gira glanced at her twin brother before returning her focus onto Link.

Link responded, "Your mother is gone."

"Gone?" Both twins repeated Link's words in hushed mumbles, if not to each other, then themselves.

Hector then asked, "Is she going to be back?" That question delivered a great blow to the former hero's heart.

Once again, it screamed in protest: _You failed, 'hero.'_

"No. No, she is not coming back." Link replied honestly, for he saw little need to lie, to offer them a false hope.  
Gira's eyes began to swell with tears. Her little lips formed that dreaded word, "F-forever...?"

"Forever," Link repeated. "She saved your lives, all og our lives, by giving hers."

_You've failed, 'hero.'_ The voice in Link's conscience uttered.

Link could see Colin's face drop, his fists tense, and his brow bead with sweat. Without a single word, the young master stomped into the crowd, near an unoccupied alley.

Gira silently wept and Hector screamed. It was all they could do. One thrashed wickedly while the other succumbed to silent tears. It was much more than Link could bear.

_You've failed, 'hero.'_

Link rose to his full height, but lowered his head, saying, "I promise: I will not let the same thing happen to you. I will not let your mother's sacrifice be in vain." Did the twins hear his promise in their grief? It mattered not. Link felt Midna's hand rest upon his tense shoulder.

Her lips met his ear and she whispered to him, "I will be with you the entire way, hero."

_You will fail, 'hero.'_

Link had much to discuss with his Twilit Queen and many plans to lay. The pair strode but a short distance away. They were soon joined by Colin, who left his little sister to tend to the children. Hector and Gira had sobbed themselves into an uneasy sleep.

Once again, that voice, that mercilessly cold voice whispered in his other ear: _You will fail, 'hero.'_

To that, Link replied, _We shall see_.

* * *

Telma stood alone upon the battlements, her dwarfish appearance was slowly fading. Her skin had considerably darkened, resembling Telma rather than a disfigured soul. This was all since the Mistress' defeat.

It was late morning when Link had finally found her.

"So, I hear that you and Midna are traveling to Fell. Am I right?" asked she.  
Link, at first, said nothing, for he was himself, unsure of it.

"We are not the only ones," admitted Link, finally.

"Yes," replied Telma, "I know.

"Colin and Uma will be traveling with us. And, inevitably, Songoro and Lakea as well." Link's thoughts turned to the large man of rock and his aquatic companion, still a curious pair in his mind. He hoped that their loyalty to him was not leading them into a mistake. Link wrung his mind of the notion and returned to the present, where the dwarfed lady spoke upon the battlements.

Telma did not take her eyes off of the burning blue landscape. "And the children? It will be a long and dangerous journey. The Mistress travels quickly and the Oocca cannot help you, as their resources are bound to Hyrule's reconstruction."

Link replied firmly, "Midna and I will protect them from anything and everything."

"Even yourselves?"

Link was taken aback by her tone. He simply stare for but a moment before he said, "They will be no safer in Hyrule than in the wilderness with us, should the Mistress return."

Telma turned to the former hero and weakly smiled, "Link dear, I am not trying to discourage your choice. I know what you must do. I am merely warning you that the road is long and arduous."

"I have my strength," smiled Link, thinking of the Twilight Queen that appeared beside him. Midna took her lover's hand and squeezed tightly. Telma watched as Link and Midna walked away, to the Gates where Colin and Uma stood. Hector and Gira stood with them, their little hands secured in those of their guardians.

The road, indeed to Fell, promised to be long. The sun rose surely over the mountain heights and a new day had begun.

* * *

_  
The sunlight wove between the rustling, wind-swept leaves; cascading through the crisp morning dew.  
Ever so gently did it kiss,  
Upon a pair of earthly mounds,  
Lined side by side.  
To mark the place, of love that died, for a peace enduring._

For in the Land of Hyrule, War had ceased.

For a time.

_

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_


	34. A Link to the Past

Thank you all for your lovely readership!

I now direct your attention to the official prequel to _Shadow and Remnant_.

That's right: prequel.

Learn the history of the Rise and Fall of Link's father, Rech Equaballus. From Ocarina, past Majora and unto the years preceding, learn of the life that once belonged to Rech. Learn of the man who would give rise to the Hero of Light and answer the questions of:

How did Rech become the man he is today? How did he ever become the **Sword of the Mistress**?

link: .net/s/5466342/1/The_Sword_of_the_Mistress

or on Deviant Art: .com/art/Sword-of-the-Mistress-141492690

Once again, thank you and happy readings!


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